A Retcon Collision
by The Aberrant One
Summary: A certain fifth dimensional imp is fed up with how a certain other universe is treating some of their key inhabitants and decides to do something about it. Warning: Marvel Bashing, especially in the earlier chapters.
1. One pissed off 5th dimensional imp

Disclaimer: X-Men, Spiderman, and Deadpool, owned by Marvel. DC characters, owned by DC.

Author's Notes: Yeah, this is me taking my anger out on Marvel. This will be set mostly in DC animated 'verse, basically the JLU 'verse.

* * *

 _ **Somewhere, Sometime, out in the dead spaces of the multiverse...**_

Mxyzptlk, fifth dimensional imp, part time enemy of Superman, occasional enemy of the Justice League, all around multidimensional pain-in-the-ass, cigar aficionado, and wearer of extremely lame looking bowler hats was very pissed off.

No...scratch that, he was beyond pissed. He was pissed months ago, or was it years? No, it was more like decades ago when he was pissed. In fact, truth be told he was beyond being beyond pissed. After what he had just witnessed, he let out an angry roar of fury that lashed out and altered various threads of multiverse. He knew it wasn't technically his business and it was technically out of his "jurisdiction", but to say that he did not like what he had witnessed other multidimensional beings doing to a certain group of beings in their own jurisdiction would have been a fucking understatement.

About fifty years prior (or it could have just been last week since we are talking about fifth dimensional imps and other such beings in general), Mxyzptlk discovered a way to pierce that space between all multiverses known as The Bleed and discovered a multiverse that was run by beings known as...well...he didn't get the name although he sarcastically referred to them as "The Marvelous Ones" who seemed to be overly proud of the "world of Marvels" they had created.

And he had to admit, he was intrigued. This so called world of Marvels (and it's alternate realities that seemed to mostly follow a "What-If" scenario) was really amusing and fun to watch. Even their "alternate" versions were amusing for awhile and he had a blast just watching. He didn't feel the need to change things and interfere (and if he had, he probably would have incurred the wrath of the Marvelous Ones which he could handle, but it would be about as annoying as getting nettle stings on very sensitive parts of the anatomy).

At least, he didn't until he noticed certain things were starting to repeat themselves and it seemed like the Marvelous Ones were stagnating in the imagination department or were trying too hard to appease some sort of lame idealistic fad that seemed to shape their thinking. Their universe was starting to become less entertaining and more...um...what was that word….oh yeah...PREACHY. Yep, the Marvelous Ones were starting to get preachy.

But, Mxyzptlk stayed his hand. He stayed it when, for some reasons, the Marvelous Ones that it would be cool to fuck over their pet mutants...again...for what had to be the one millionth time. He stayed his hand when one of his favorite mortals in this world of Marvels was screwed out of having any form of a happy life by basically being forced to make a deal with a demon and agree to be permanently separated from his wife...their marriage (and memories of each other) erased from reality.

And he didn't even want to think about the whole Civil War thing that those morons let happen because they want to "shake things up" for shits and grins. If Mxyptlk had his way, he would have taken the Marvelous Ones known as B'ndis and Q'sada, made them mortal, and then had them sentenced to Apokolips for a century or two under the care of Granny Goodness.

And he lost respect for a large chunk of heroes in that world because they willingly went (or, in the cases of Tony Stark and Reed Richards, threw themselves with wild abandon into it and led the way), turned on their friends, and gleefully locked them away in some other-dimensional prison for crime of "not registering" because they had powers.

 _Even the Dork Knight was not that big of a douche-bag through out his various dimensional incarnations,_ the imp thought to himself.

Of course, the Marvelous Ones must have realized what they had done because they tried to do a dimensional 'ret-con' in various ways to sweep their fuck-ups under the metaphorical rug. When that didn't work, they decided to just say "the hell with it" and, in a lack of total imagination (or maybe they were just trying to be considerate of the multidimensional environment and thought it would be cool to recycle), regurgitated an event they called another "Secret War" where they literally collided various different versions of their Marvelous World and systematically eliminated and/or changed what they didn't like.

And, once again, beings that Mxyzptlk had grown attached to were getting fucked over...and he had enough of it. Mutants, if they weren't depowered or killed off, were merely being "written out" of reality in favor of these beings called "Inhumans". Once again, a certain web-slinging hero was getting trashed and being re-written because some member of the Marvelous Ones wanted to "take the man in a new direction".

Oh, for crying out loud, haven't they fucking suffered enough already? While he had to admit that he could be an asshole, Mxyzptlk wasn't THAT delusional, unbalanced, or overly sadistic.

And yet, he still did nothing, despite the fact he wanted to just rip through the tears of reality that the Marvelous Ones had created in their own 'verse and extract those that he cared about.

That was when, one moment, while he was watching a certain black and red clad masked mercenary with a mouth suddenly stop slicing and dicing his latest enemies to pause (as did the carnage around him...it was like someone had hit a pause button on reality) and looked right at where the fifth dimensional imp was sitting/floating in his incorporeal form. "So, Mxy," the man named Deadpool said, "you just going to stand there and mentally bitch about how things are...or are you actually going to do something about it?"

For a moment, the imp was shocked that he could be seen. Then he was shocked that such an inferior being would snark at him in such a manner. But then he realized...oh yeah, this was Deadpool, so it was pretty much okay and, dammit, the merc with a mouth had a fucking point. Then the action resumed and Deadpool went back to removing a few heads and inflicting crippling, if not fatal, injuries to his enemies.

And, for another moment, the imp was going to take a deep breath and hold back his anger and let things continue, but he could see what the Marvelous Ones were doing...especially since that disgusting being known as "The Rat" assumed control of the Marvelous Ones and was dictating how things should go.

"Okay, that's it!" he snarled, physically assuming form in this dimension and literally pausing all of reality around him (except for Deadpool who, not surprisingly, seemed immune to the effect). "I've had enough of this shit!"

With a wave of the imp's hands, reality suddenly rippled away, buildings, people, mutants, aliens, monsters...EVERYTHING...just vanished, except, of course, Deadpool who was in mid-kick and found himself standing in the middle of a white room surrounded by what appeared to be multiple floating bubbles that contained freeze frame images of all the various realities affiliated to the World of Marvels.

"Whoa, where's Rod Serling when you need him?" Deadpool asked as he started walk around and look at the various "reality bubbles". He then looked over at Mxyzptlk. "Um, Mxy, no offense, but couldn't you get in trouble for this?" he asked. "Not that I'm complaining," he quickly added defensively as he raised his hands up.

"Wade Wilson." The fifth dimensional smiled at Deadpool. "Perhaps the most fucked up character in this 'verse. You were a rip-off of a character from where I come from, but you became your own man despite knowing who and what you are."

The eyes on Deadpool's mask widened slightly. "Um, thanks?"

"So," the imp continued, his hands glowing slightly as he walked around the various bubbles, pausing to tap a few of them that started to glow the yellow-green color that matched the energy coming from his hands. "I'm going to do something that is going to rock your reality. Normally, I would just do it and not ask your input, but I figure you, of all people, should get a choice."

"Um, okay, call me confused," Deadpool said. "I assume these are alternate realities involved with my world. But what exactly do you intend to do with them….and me?"

"The blunt and honest truth, I'm going to take you, a key group of certain mutants, and a certain web-slinging smart-ass college student/photographer and merge you into a thread of a different multiverse," was the reply. Then Mxyzptlk shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, why should I lie to you about that?"

"Why are you doing this?" Deadpool asked.

"Because I was bored and then became pissed off at what I saw happening to beings I enjoyed watching."

"Isn't this going to get you into trouble?"

"Yeah, but nothing I couldn't handle...though I might need a gallon or two of calamine lotion on my ball sack when this is done."

"Ewww! TMI, man, TMI!"

The imp grinned at Deadpool, them clasped his hands together. "So, Wade, what's it gonna' be? Come with me and have a chance at a slightly decent but still fucked up life, or stay around and continued to be sodomized by The Rat, B'ndis, and Q'sada?"

"Hmmm, I dunno'," Deadpool said. "I mean, my healing factor has pretty much negated most of the pain and I do enjoy pissing them off. After all, it's the only thing I'm good at."

Then a young woman with long dark hair, dressed in tight leather pants, a black t-shirt, and wearing an ankh around her neck strolled by Deadpool, before stopping to glance over her shoulder and give the merc a "come hither" look. "Oh, c'mon Wade," she said. "You know you want to." Then she continued to walk away before dissipating back to her own reality.

"Whoa, is that-" Deadpool started to ask.

"Yep. And, might I add, that's her true form."

"Okay...let's go."

"Well, then, right this way," Mxyzptlk said, gesturing with his right arm and causing a green portal to appear. The spheres that the imp had selected had began to float through the portal.

"No!" The angry voice boomed through the room, shaking the remaining spheres in the room, causing some of them to shatter. "You cannot do this!"

"I did and I have," snapped Mxyzptlk at the shadowy beings that started to coalesce into humanoid shape from the remains of the shattered spheres. "I can't save you from destroying your creation," he continued. "But I sure as hell can save some of the elements that are worth saving."

One of the humanoid shadows, a scrawny looking being with a bald head pointed menacingly at Mxyzptlk. "You won't get away with this, imp," it hissed. "We will come for you."

"Fuck you, B'ndis," Mxy replied. "You can try...and you will fail...just like the rest of your little club."

"This isn't over."

"Actually," Deadpool said as he tossed a grenade at the shadowy beings, "yeah it is." Then he turned around and tackled Mxyzptlk, knocking them both through the portal and vanished with a barely audible pop that was drowned out by the explosion that destroyed the white room while the shadowy beings screamed in fury before they dissipated into nothingness.

* * *

 **Gotham University**

 **Gotham City, New Jersey**

Erik Lensherr, also known as the mutant terrorist Magneto, shook his head to overcome the wave of nausea and disorientation. When that subsided, he realized he was standing in a well lit room in front of a white board with a marker in his hand instead of in the dimly lit room in his underground base of operations.

"Professor Lensherr, is something wrong?"

Erik was still disoriented from whatever happened, but something told him that, despite the situation he was in, this was normal….or at least the new normal. He turned in the direction of the voice and saw about twenty young people in their late teens or early twenties sitting at their desks taking notes. He then focused on the young man in the front looking at him in concern.

Will...the young man's name was William. "Sorry, William," Erik said. "I got lost in thought about this," he turned to look back at the white board and looked at the equations on the board that he recognized as the chemical, "particular alloy and its uses."

"If it's any consolation, Professor, you lost us when you explained how that particular alloy could be made malleable. From the looks of the component elements, it looks almost next to impossible." This comment came from an unknown student Erik didn't recognize right away.

"Oh, it is possible," Erik said, "but it requires a lot of power to generate enough heat."

"Or possibly use a form of adaptive nanotechnology that could work on a molecular level," said the young man Erik identified as Will. Erik could hear a group of collective groans, but was intrigued by the boy. Apparently, William had a good grasp of what was on the board.

Erik then glanced at the clock and another instinct from this altered reality took over. "Sadly, we don't have time to get into that debate since we're done for the day. Now, tonight, go over your notes, and we will continue this discussion tomorrow.

He couldn't help smiling at the muttered comments and sighs of relief of "avoiding a sudden quiz" as the students filed out. Turning back to the board he looked at the adamantium formula on the board and realized that it wasn't quite complete.

William was the last to leave, pausing for a moment to look at the board. "So, professor, this formula...does it really exist?"

"What do you mean by that, William?"

The young man walked up to the board and went over a couple parts of the equation. "You said this was a hypothetical exercise," he said. "But everything here...it looks like you might be on to something here."

For some reason, the young man's full name suddenly flashed through Erik's mind. "Mr. Magnus," he said. "You are far too talented to waste your time on a hypothetical idea coming from an 'old school' teacher like myself."

Will Magnus merely smiled. "And you, Mr. Linsherr, are not as old fashioned as you claim to be." He then looked down at his watch. "Anyway, I'm due at the robotics lab in twenty minutes...thanks for the inspiration, professor."

Erik watched the young man exit the room before he sat down at his desk and looked around the class room. For some reason, he recognized this place, and yet...it was new to him and unfamiliar at the same time. He was Erik Lensherr, also known as the mutant Magneto...but not here. Here, he was Professor Lensherr, teaching metallurgical engineering at Gotham University.

He looked around to make sure that he was truly alone. Then, when he was certain, there were no witnesses, he gestured at the door with his right hand. His magnetic abilities confirmed their existence as they caught the metal on the door and closed it.

"Hmmm, interesting," Erik said out loud. He had two sets of memories from two separate realities, but there was no conflict in his mind...just initial confusion. Having experienced this before, he realized what had happened.

Someone had managed to alter reality, but for some reasons, he still retained his original memory.

He could only wonder who else was affected by this event.

* * *

 _ **Bludhaven, New Jersey**_

Raven Darkholme suddenly awoke, letting out a horrified gasp as the remnants of a nightmare began to fade from her mind.

"Whoa," she heard a male voice say next to her and hand gently touched her shoulder. "You okay...ow!" The man yelped in pain as Raven grabbed his wrist. "Raven! What the hell?"

Reality suddenly snapped back to normal and Raven let her lover's wrist go. "Oh god, Dick, I'm sorry," she said as the man in bed next to her rubbed his wrist.

"Damn, that must have been one hell of a nightmare," Dick said as he propped himself up against the headboard of the bed. "Not that I'm complaining, because I like you in that form, but it must have been one hell of a dream if you started to morph claws."

"What do you mean by that?" Raven asked, then she looked down and realized she was in her natural blue skinned form. She shifted back to her blond haired "default" form. "Sorry about that," she said.

Dick Grayson blinked a couple times. "Um, Raven, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Is there some reason why you shifted back to your blond form? Or did we decide to scrap the 'we can be ourselves' rule?"

Memories started to flood back into Raven's mind as she adapted to this new reality. Shapeshifter, former thief, former assassin, occasional mercenary, and author. She also remembered meeting up with a certain vigilante known as Nightwing and the interesting relationship they had developed over the last six months.

A smile formed on her lips as she returned to her normal blue form. "Well," she said coyly as she climbed on top of him, "maybe we should misbehave and it will make me forget my nightmare."

"I'm game if you are," Dick said, returning her grin. "Just try to lay off the claw marks...the guys at the precinct are starting to talk."


	2. The Merc With a Mouth and the Watchtower

**Disclaimer:** Don't own X-Men, Spiderman, or the Justice League. Fox/Marvel and Warner Brothers own them. I'm just borrowing them for shits and grins.

 **Author's Note:** Okay, the train wreck continues (because I'm still having trouble on the "War of Angels" stuff...so many crazy ideas causing massive blockage...oh, and getting sidetracked by something called OVERWATCH! (Evil game...forcing me to pay homage to the great Gorilla god known as Winston and his high priestesses Tracer and Widowmaker). Again, this is just something I've thrown together. This is set in the JLU 'verse. As for the Marvel stuff, I will be taking elements of the movies and some bits of X-Men Evolution, and hitting the "Frappe" button on this. Some people will have flashes of memories of their "past lives" in the shitty Marvel universe, while others won't. And a few (like Magneto, Deadpool, and a few others) will suspect (or in Deadpool's case, actually know) what happened. Some characters are going to find themselves de-aged and/or displaced in time. Hey, like I said, this is just some train-wreck of an idea and it's mostly me bashing Marvel for the shit they've done over the last decade or so.

Anyway, this has been un-betad, so there will probably be some errors which I'll probably correct as I catch them when I re-read it and make multiple revisions.

* * *

 _ **The Watchtower**_

 _ **Somewhere in Earth Orbit**_

J'onn J'onzz shook his head as he tried to regain his bearings. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt as if his perception of reality had momentarily warped around him before he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his mind that sent him staggering back a couple steps. He managed to keep from falling, but it did attract the attention of Green Lantern John Stewart who was also in the command center assisting the Watchtower staffers who were working the graveyard shift.

"J'onn, are you alright?" Stewart asked.

"I'm fine, Lantern," J'onn replied as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Although I think I now know what you humans call a migraine feels like."

"You don't look fine," Stewart said. "Look, it's a slow night and I can take over for the rest of the shift."

"I appreciate your concern, but I really am fine. I'm not sure what I experienced, but I'm certain that whatever just happened has passed."

"Well, what did happen?"

"I'm not sure," J'onn replied. "It felt like some sort of psychic backlash on a world wide scale...and then nothing." He then paused and looked at Stewart who had a faint smile on his face. "And don't even think of making a Star Wars joke."

"Too late," the Green Lantern chuckled lightly. "If I didn't do it, you know Wally would and would have played it for all its worth."

"Which is why I'm glad the Flash is currently back planetside working his day job." J'onn returned Stewart's grin. "But I assure you I am fine...it just felt...strange." He then looked out the main viewing window and stared at the Earth below them. "It's almost as if something's changed, but it hasn't."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

J'onn stared down at the slowly rotating Earth, a thoughtful look on his face. Something was different, but he wasn't sure. A quick mental "pinging" informed him that all members of the League were accounted for. He then turned to look back at Stewart. "Yes, I'm alright...but perhaps you're right. However, I don't want to set a precedent for others to shirk their duties."

"J'onn, it's only for another hour and a half, I think we can handle it," Stewart assured him. "Besides, if something does happen, you'll be the first person I'll be calling."

"Are you certain of this?"

"Yeah." Stewart then made a "shooing" motion with his hand. "Now go...kick back, relax for a little bit, meditate, sleep, or do whatever it is you do during downtime other than lurking around the command center."

"I'm not that bad," J'onn said with a smirk. He then turned and started to walk away. "Fine, I'm going, but keep me informed if anything happens," he said over his shoulder.

Stewart was about to make some snide comment when there was a sudden flash of yellow light in the command center.

"Incoming!" screamed a man in a tattered black and red costume complete with mask right before he dropped the fifty feet from the ceiling where he impacted floor, leaving a slight indentation where he landed. "Owie," he choked out.

Stewart was instantly airborne and flying towards the intruder as was J'onn who decided this fit the criteria of 'anything happening'.

"Who are you?" Stewart demanded as he landed a few feet away from the intruder, his right arm raised and his ring glowing, prepared to fire an energy blast if the stranger proved hostile. "What are you doing here?"

"Ow, hold on a minute, man," the man who was still lying prone on the ground replied. "But to answer your immediate questions...I'm Deadpool, but that probably doesn't mean anything to you. As for what I'm doing here, I'm currently lying on the floor of your facility, waiting for my spine, spleen and right shoulder to heal up while I admire the sci-fi architecture motif you got going here."

For a moment, that response threw Stewart off guard. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he heard the sound of a needle to a record player scratching off a turntable for a moment. On the other hand, the intruder who called himself Deadpool did answer his questions.

"Okay, my turn," Deadpool winced as he propped himself up just in time to see J'onn land next to him. "Am I hallucinating or is there a not-so-little green man wearing a cape and glaring at me?"

"You are not hallucinating, Deadpool," J'onn replied. Then the Martian frowned. "Odd...I can't seem to scan your mind, it appears clouded."

"Maybe it's because I'm a psychotic anti-hero and mercenary who is messed up in the head," Deadpool said as he turned his head to one side before an audible pop was heard. "Oh hell yeah, nothing like the feeling of having vertebrae properly pop back into place after falling into a..." He turned and looked around. "Where am I?"

"The Watchtower," J'onn replied.

"Really? So this is where you Jehovah's Witnesses are based out of? Nice digs."

That comment got some snickers from some of the personnel manning their stations and even Stewart found himself trying not to chuckle at that comment. "No," he said. "It's Justice League headquarters."

"Just Us League?" Deadpool asked. "Wow, that sounds very elitist of you."

By now, some of the personnel were actually starting to laugh, though they quickly fell silent from the glare Stewart gave them.

"Hey, I recognize those animated pajamas," Deadpool said as he pointed at Stewart's Green Lantern Uniform. "Had a really fucked up dream that I wore something like that and worked for some lame group of cosmic losers who claimed to represent law and order in the universe. Even wore a lame animated domino mask...gotta' tell ya, the glowing green eyes are an improvement, though you do look kind of like Shaft on steroids."

"Who are you, really?" J'onn asked.

"Um, Green Space Shaft already asked that question," Deadpool replied. "I'm Deadpool, but that probably doesn't mean anything here." He started to get up, but a beam of green energy sailed over his head.

"Don't move," Stewart ordered.

"Aw, man," Deadpool half-whined, "we're already skipping to the part where we have to fight? What is it with you hero types...I swear it's in the fucking manual for you people. Seriously, is there an actual line in the hero guide book that clearly states 'You must fight some unknown guy whenever he comes crashing out of a portal and leaves imprints of his ass cheeks in the floor of your base of operations'?"

"Not that I'm aware of," replied J'onn. "But I suspect from your stance, attitude, and codename that you are not exactly a 'hero'."

"Of course not," Deadpool said. "I'm a professional mercenary, assassin, and all around smarta-"

A bolt of green energy sent him flying across the room where he impacted the wall, leaving yet another indentation.

"Owie," Deadpool hissed again as his body sagged down to the floor. "I think I felt a couple ribs go." Then he looked up at Green Lantern who was now floating a few feet off the ground in front of him. "Y'know...you really need to work on your people skills. Or are you having some unresolved rage issues?"

"Who are you?" Stewart snarled as he reached down and grabbed Deadpool by the front of his costume. "Who sent you?"

"Whoa there, Space-Shaft, chill out on the uber-bad cop routine," Deadpool wheezed. "Oh man...I think you did puncture a lung with that last hit. No...wait...it's healing back up….oh yeah, much better."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Well, no...that's one of my primary super powers, actually. I can keep this up all day, but I have another power that will bring you to a world of pain in an instant."

"Oh really? And what might that-"

Stewart was cut off as Deadpool brought a leg up, his knee impacting the Green Lantern in the crotch. The self-styled "Merc-with-a-mouth" had put most of his strength in the blow, which resulted in Stewart releasing his grip as he was actually knocked upward and back a few feet. Deadpool, once released, followed up with an uppercut while Steward was just starting to cry out in pain, catching the Green Lantern squarely on the jaw and sending the man sprawling to the floor.

"And Wilson knocks it out of the fucking park!" Deadpool exclaimed, raising his arms in victory. "And the fans go wild!"

His revelry was cut short by the sound of an alarm going off along with the sounds of multiple weapons being cocked as various Watchtower personnel pulled them out and trained them on the intruder.

"Oh shit, I forgot I'm in the opposing team's home stadium," Deadpool muttered. "Now this is awkward."

"Indeed it is," J'onn said as he materialized behind the mercenary and shoved a partially phased hand through Deadpool's back.

Deadpool let out a startled gasp and staggered a half step. "Ouch," he rasped. "I feel like someone stabbed me from behind and I have something sticking out of my chest." He looked down and saw a green hand sticking out of the front of his chest. "Oh...that would explain why."

"I must admit, you seem to be taking your situation rather well, Deadpool," J'onn said, noting that the intruder didn't seem too bothered by having been impaled.

"Well, I'll be honest with you, Green Martian Dude, it does hurt a little," Deadpool admitted as his hand fell to his side and, in one smooth motion, suddenly pulled a dagger out of it's sheathe. Before the martian could react, Deadpool brought the blade down, cutting deep and almost severing the limb. Deadpool reached down and ripped the hand off the rest of the way as he lunged forward too pull himself away from the rest of the alien's arm.

"Okay," he said, as he spun around to face the martian. "That was not cool." He then noticed the alien hand he was holding started to melt and dissipate while a new hand regenerated on the alien's arm. "But that, however, is pretty damn cool."

"Thank you," J'onn replied as he and Deadpool started to slowly circle each other. "You do realize that you cannot win here, right?"

Deadpool shrugged as he pulled a katana from the sheathe on his back. "Oh, I've faced worse, buddy, believe me. This is not the first time I've been dumped onto an alternate Earth. Luckily, this is not the zombie-version...that was not cool. Got stuck with my counterpart's head for awhile and he just wouldn't shut up. He just kept talking and talking...and talking...and talking...and talking…and talking...you know what I mean, right?"

"Oh, I have a pretty good idea," J'onn replied. "Now, I will ask you one more time...stand down or be taken down."

Deadpool tilted his head to one side, the white eye-pieces to his mask squinting slightly as he momentarily considered his options. "Um…hold on, let me think about it. Hmmm...um, okay, how about 'No'? Sorry, but being dumped in a completely new universe and imprisoned right after arriving doesn't sound that appealing."

"Neither does getting suckerpunched while the green Martian guy is distracting you," said a female voice.

"Yeah," Deadpool said in agreement as he turned his head to face the newcomer. "That sucks t-"

He was cut off as a fist impacted squarely on the jaw, the strength behind the blow knocking him across the command center and into a computer terminal.

"Nicely done, Supergirl," J'onn said as the young heroine floated down to the floor and started to walk towards the man she just knocked out. "Now let's get him secured before he-"

"Aw...maaaaan," groaned Deadpool as started to pull himself out of the remains of the computer terminal he was embedded in. "What the fuck hit me?"

"No way!" Kara Kent exclaimed, causing the intruder to look at her.

"Whoa, that was you?" Deadpool asked.

"Um, yeah," Kara replied, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this guy just took one of the punches he usually reserved for fighting someone like Bane or Solomon Grundy and he was STILL conscious and actually getting up.

"Okay...two things I just want to get out of the way, first," Deadpool said as he staggered back to his feet. "First thing, love the outfit...I mean, I'm not big on capes, but I like the mini-skirt combo and the long-sleeve halter-top. It works pretty well for you. Second thing: what the hell are they feeding you, girl? Even Collosus doesn't hit that hard...hell, I'd pay good money to see you face off against him."

Then he paused as the realization hit him. "Wait...that Mxy guy grabbed the X-Men, the other mutants that actually mattered, and Parker…I might actually get to see it happen."

Kara was about to follow up with another attack, but suddenly stopped when she heard a certain name. "Wait, did you say 'Mxy'? As in Mxyzptlk?"

"Um, maybe," Deadpool said as he put one of his hand out at the height of his waist. "Short little dude about...um...yay-high, kind of scrawny looking, wears an eyesore of an outfit, a way-too-tiny bowler hat, smokes a cigar? Is that the guy?"

"Um, yeah," Kara replied, not sure what else to say.

"Okay, then, yeah...that was the guy. Not sure what he did with the others, but he just dumped my ass here for some reason. Everyone else got a reboot/new life...but not me."

"What are you talking about?" Kara asked. She was still about to attack him, but a telepathic signal from J'onn had her stop.

 _ **Keep him talking, Kara.**_

 _ **Don't think that's the problem, J'onn. He seems to enjoy the sound of his own voice.**_

 **Noticed that, have you? Just keep him distracted from me.**

"What I'm talking about, young lady," Deadpool said as he yanked off his mask. "Is that while I know it's my job to get shit on by the multiverse, a guy would like to catch a break once in a while. I mean, is that too much to ask? And, for crying out loud, tell Green Martian dude to stop trying to sneak up on me!"

"No...it's not possible," John Stewart rasped, having regained consciousness and managed to pull himself painfully up on his knees as he saw the now now unmasked mercenary's face.

Kara gasped in shock as well. "Wait, that's not right, I read the file on you."

"Um, I don't think so kid," Deadpool replied. "Never been here in this 'verse, though I have to admit I'm impressed that you aren't throwing up right now at seeing my ugly mug."

"What are you talking about?" Kara asked. "You died saving everybody...how can you be alive?"

"Okay, again, what part of 'I've never been in this universe' did you not get?"

"You're right," Stewart said as he got back up on his feet. "You sound like him and you look like him, but you aren't him."

"Okay, what the hell are you talking about?"

In response to Deadpool's question, J'onn suddenly phased out of the floor in front of him, holding a mirror. "I think this might answer that question," he said.

"What are you-" Deadpool suddenly stopped as he caught his reflection in the mirror. "Son of a bitch...that little bastard...he actually did it, he fixed my face." Then he heard a familiar beeping noise he hadn't heard in a long time and looked down to see a certain glowing device on his utility belt. "Oh...Mxy…you sneaky little shit, you shouldn't have!"

Suddenly, the device emitted a bright flash of yellow light that enveloped the mercenary and momentarily blinded everyone else. When everyone's vision cleared a few seconds later, Deadpool was gone and off the station.

J'onn immediately alerted the rest of the founding members telepathically. He was now certain that Deadpool was linked to the disturbance he had sensed earlier. While the man had been distracted by Kara, J'onn had managed to briefly link to Deadpool's mind.

And what he saw had terrified him. While he couldn't get a proper read, he saw enough in the other man's mind.

Another Earth, a different Earth, a completely different universe. A world gone mad, god-like beings treating their universe's heroes like disposable playthings, and an angry fifth dimensional imp taking matters into his own hands. Part of a universe was ripped out of a multi-verse and was not quite seamlessly woven into theirs. He briefly saw images, faces, even heard some names…

A blue shape-shifting woman fighting with a man who had long metal blades coming out of his hands.

A man in a blue and red costume that had a spider symbol on his chest, swinging through the city on some sort of cable-like substance.

A bald man sitting in a wheelchair, a contemplative look on his face as he saw watched a few metahumans fighting each other in some sort of training facility.

A gray-haired man wearing some sort of body armor, a helmet, and a cape hovered in a city's skyline, hands raised, surrounded by buildings and vehicles that were floating around him in the air.

And then, a shadow fell over it all, and J'onn saw a dark figure standing there. A large and imposing man with gray skin and glowing yellow eyes. There were silhouettes of four figures standing behind the man, hidden in the shadows.

"A new world, a new beginning," the figure said, his voice echoing through J'onns mind. "And it will be mine!"

Then just as quick as they came, the images vanished and J'onn dropped to the ground on his hands and knees.

"J'onn!" Kara called out as she flew over to where he had fallen. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Kara, I am fine."

"Bullshit," Kara snapped. "You got that look on your face."

"And what look would that be?"

"The 'I just saw the end of the world and I don't think we can stop it' look."

"I...I'm not sure what I saw," J'onn admitted. "But I called Superman and the others. They need to know. Something has happened."

"What is it?"

Unfortunately, J'onn couldn't give her a clear answer because he found himself struggling to remember what he had seen. It was almost as if something was trying to erase or blur out what he had experienced. That much was evident when, after a couple more seconds, he was forced to admit the truth.

"I...I don't know."

* * *

Authors Note: Yes, Deadpool's got his face back and I brought back his teleportation belt that he used back in the old comics. And, as you might have guessed, Mxy didn't just bring the X-Men and Spidey...he brought along some of their villains as well. And yes, Deadpool does look like a certain Green Lantern character.


	3. An imp, a spider, and two mutants

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything. The Rat owns the Marvel properties while fighting with the Fox and Warner Brothers owns the DC character.

 **Author's Notes:**

Yep, still writing this fic since I'm still fighting writer's block on my "War of Angels" stuff. However, I think I'm overcoming that hurdle since I am working again on D&I and WoA: Collision. As for this fic...I don't think I'll be having that problem because I have so many ideas and my hatred for Marvel is so deep that I won't run out of inspiration when it comes to pissing on that SJW/politically correct pile of shit they refer to as the current Marvel Comics Universe.

Spoiler Alert: Going to dredge up something that I stumbled across a couple years ago. I'm kind of paying homage to one of the older animated series and giving it a kind of "reboot" ala Mxyzptlk style. Some of you might not like it...but hey...you can't please everyone.

* * *

 _ **Queens, New York**_

" _With great power, comes great responsibility..."_

" _I'm sorry, Mr. Parker, but your uncle didn't make it..."_

" _Hey, tiger...you just hit the jackpot..."_

" _Parker, where are my photos!? What the hell am I paying you for?"_

" _And this Parker, is where it all ends!"_

" _You killed my father, Pete!"_

" _You're going to have to pick a side Peter."_

" _My name is Peter Parker...and I've been doing this since I was fifteen years old."_

" _I am SUPERIOR!"_

" _Oh, little spider, how you forget...everyone close to you will die! I will gut you like a pig and keep you alive long enough to watch me feast on the brains of your loved ones..."_

"Auuuuugh!"

Peter Parker, age eighteen, woke up in a cold sweat, bolting himself upright as he cried out in horror from montage of nightmares that ripped through his brain…

"Fuck!" he shouted as his head slammed into the small overhead bookcase mounted on the wall above the headboard of his bed.

"Language kiddo," he heard someone say in the darkness of his room. "Although I can't really blame you since you just relived multiple versions of your nightmarish life before waking back up in your teenage body."

Peter was instantly on alert, getting ready to jump out of his bed and attack the unknown intruder who turned on the desk lamp to Peter's desk to reveal…

A scrawny looking middle aged man wearing a bizarre yellow costume, a worn out overcoat, and bowler hat that was apparently a couple sizes too small was sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

"Um, okay, not exactly what I was expecting," Peter said as he cautiously got out of bed. "I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you're not human or I'm still actually in bed having a really screwed up dream."

The man chuckled and shook his head as he stood up out of the chair. "Not a chance, Peter Parker, or should I call you Spiderman...or is it Spider-Man?" The man paused as he pondered that for a moment before wincing slightly and shaking his head. "Doesn't matter anymore, welcome to your new life and new world, Peter." He paused again. "It is okay if I called you Peter, right? Because, you're kind of not in costume and it would be kind of awkward calling you Spider-hyphen-Man. Or should I call you Pajama Man for the time being?"

"Whoa, hold on," Peter said, lowering his hands as he realized that this man wasn't a threat since his Spidey-Sense wasn't going off. "First off, who are you and why are you in my bedroom?"

The man smiled at him again. "What makes you think I'm in your bedroom and that you're not still in bed having a very screwed up dream?" he asked.

"Because my head is still hurting from when I hit that book case."

"And perhaps you knocked yourself out and is now resulting in this very screwed up hallucinatory dream you're having right now." The man's expression suddenly became serious...for about ten seconds before he broke out in laughter. "Just messing with you, Peter," he said. "And my name is Mxyzptlk...and, this is VERY real. Unless there's a subconscious desire to dream about middle-aged looking fifth dimensional imps lurking around in that mind of yours; if that's the case, you might need to seek some professional help."

"Dude, it's three thirty in morning," Peter groaned. "I have to get up in a couple hours and take my chemistry mid-term today." Then he paused as he thought about what he just said. "Wait, I haven't had a mid-term in over six years." He looked around the room and realized that this was not the bedroom in his apartment, this was his original bedroom at Aunt May's house.

 _But that can't be right,_ he thought to himself. _That house was destroyed when...no, it wasn't destroyed...wait, it was damaged...no, it got blown up…_

"Ah, I see your brain is trying to sort out the memories of your other selves and trying to reintegrate them into something that makes sense," Mxyzptlk said as he walked up to Peter and put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Just relax for a couple seconds kid, let it ride out, and regain your bearings. I know, this is going to come as a shock to you, but you're eighteen again, not twenty-five and...well...some things have changed."

Peter blinked a couple times as he mentally fought the slight feeling of vertigo as his mind started to lock on to its primary reality while the memories of other lives became nothing more than faint memories.

"There ya go, kid." Mxyzptlk pulled his hand away and then stumbled back a step. "Damn, grafting alternate realities and rewriting them really does fuck a person up." He started to collapse to the ground, but Peter caught him.

"Whoa, you okay?"

Mxyzptlk smirked as he saw the concerned look on the young man's face. "Not really, kid, but there's not much you can do about it. And what you just asked me says I'm right about you. Most people in your situation would probably be demanding that I tell them what's going on instead of asking if I'm okay."

"Oh, I'm getting to that part," Peter said as helped Mxyzptlk back to the chair. Once the man sat back down, pulled up the other chair in his room and sat down across from the man. "Okay, this is now the part where I ask you what the hell is going on."

"Kind of along story," the fifth dimensional imp said, "but here's the quick version: the beings in charge of your little multi-verse decided to fuck you over along with a bunch of...no, scratch that, make that the ENTIRE mutant race in their pathetic attempt to rewrite your world." He paused for a moment and looked Peter straight in the eye. "I know this sounds crazy to you, but I'm telling you the truth."

Peter grinned at the man. "Buddy, according to these memories I got, I've seen weirder stuff and your explanation actually makes sense. Although I think I'm going to hate it if I ever see Deadpool again and admit that he was right the whole time."

"Wade's going to be too busy to care," Mxyzptlk assured him. "But yeah, he was mostly right. He was right there when I decided I had enough of watching you all get fucked over at the whim of a rat faced being suffering from an overbearing 'god complex' and ripped a lot of you out of that 'verse and transplanted you here. You, the X-Men, and almost everyone with a major connection to you that actually mattered is here. No Avengers, SHIELD, or Fantastic Four though." A look of disgust crossed the man's face as he mentioned those three groups. "Tony Stark, Reed Richards, and the rest of those clowns can fuck around in their universe, but not here."

"Okay, so you, being this powerful being, felt sorry for us and dragged us here for a new life?"

"Pretty much."

Peter's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you not telling me?"

"Well, I did bring versions of your enemies here as well...but things will be different. It will just depend on how you all adjust." Mxyzptlk flinched and hissed in pain before clutching his sides. "Ow...damn...I really haven't got much time."

"Have you done this for everyone you 'grafted' over here?" Peter asked.

"Altered things so they can adapt to their new existence and retain most of their other memories? Yeah. But you and Deadpool are the only two I have talked to directly." The imp gave Peter a sad smile. "What can I say, you and Wade were my favorites and you both, as you pointed out, have seen some weird shit so I think you can handle the truth." Painfully, he proceeded to get up out of the chair again. "I just thought you deserved to know."

"Wait, where are you going?" Peter asked, standing up to help the other man steady himself. "You're obviously in no condition to go anywhere."

"I'll be fine, Parker," Mxyzptlk said. "Just need to make one more visit and then I'm going to take care of myself." He raised his right hand and noticed that it was starting to ripple and briefly become incorporeal. "Yeah...my time here is definitely limited. Take care of yourself, Peter...oh...and good luck on that mid-term, you'll actually ace it this time since you're taking it for the first time despite having already done it a dozen times over a dozen different lifetimes."

And before Peter could react, the imp snapped his fingers and vanished in a faint flash of light.

Peter stood there for a few minutes, trying to determine if the last few minutes had actually happened or if he was going to wake up and realize this was a weird dream. After he reached the ten minute mark of doing nothing, he had come to the conclusion that yes, this did happen and yes, he was eighteen years old again, and yes...he did have a chemistry exam in a few hours.

\No longer wanting to go back to sleep, he left his room, briefly stopped to use the bathroom, then went downstairs to the kitchen. He was surprised to see light coming from underneath the kitchen door and even more surprised at who was sitting at the kitchen table when he opened the door.

Bobby Drake and Angelica Jones silently sat at the table. Bobby was drinking some hot cocoa while Angelica was sipping some herbal tea; both of them were wearing their pajamas and robes and had strange looks on their faces.

"Let me guess," Peter said. "Couldn't sleep either?"

The other two teens shook their heads. Even though he had known both mutants for the last six months, it was still weird having them here as boarders at the house. Then again...it also seemed...familiar.

 _Screw this,_ he thought to himself as he walked over to the kitchen counter and poured himself a cup off coffee from the coffee maker. He then joined the others at the table, savoring the strong liquid as he gulped it down. The looks he saw on their faces told him that they, like him, must have had an interesting batch of "dreams".

Deciding he should break the silence first, he set his now half empty coffee cup on the table. "Well," he said, "anyone else have some really messed up dreams last night?"

The two mutants stared at him for a moment before glancing at each other. After a couple seconds, they returned their attention to Peter.

"Yeah," Angelica repied. "We did. I dreamt my mutant power gave me cancer and I was forced to go through this weird drama of a life that seemed like one hopeless and badly written soap opera with no end. What about you?"

"Pretty much the same," Peter said, deciding that it would be best to leave Mxyzptlk out of the conversation for now. "Relived Gwen's death, got married to Mary Jane in the future, was forced to reveal my identity to the world, and then we both made a deal with a demon...and those were just the highlights." He then glanced over at Bobby who was still holding his cocoa and appeared to still be in a mild state of shock. "Bobby? You okay?"

The blond haired mutant shook his head. "After hearing what you two dreamed about, it almost makes mine only slightly fucked up."

"No traumatic life events of the alternate reality kind?" Angelica asked, still wondering who this Vance jerk was she was supposedly engaged to in one of her dreams.

"Not exactly," Bobby replied. "It was just really weird...and...I'm not sure you want to hear it."

"C'mon, Bobby, it can't be that bad," Peter said.

Bobby took another sip of hot chocolate before he let out a resigned sigh. "Fine," he said. "But try not to laugh too much, okay?"

Peter and Angelica gave reassuring nods and Bobby decided to just blurt it out.

"I had a dream Mickey Mouse attacked me with a magic wand and said he was going to turn me gay before he tried to sodomize me with the aforementioned wand."

The reaction wasn't exactly laughter, but it did cause Peter and Angelica to choke on their drinks.


	4. The Price of a New World

_Disclaimer: X-Men owned by Marvel (even though they're currently treating them like shit and seem intent on killing anything X-Men or mutant related because of some petty bullshit with Fox over movie rights). Justice League owned by Warner Brothers/DC (who don't seem to be as petty as Disney/Marvel is)._

 _Author's Notes: Okay, this was kind of an offhand drabble idea I had and I just kept writing it. Not sure if I like the final product, but here ya go. Hope you like it...though some people might be pissed at what I did here. Also, this story is set post-Thanagarian Invasion and is set somewhere in the first season of Justice Leaugue Unlimited (some time after the Task Force X episode). Long story short, in this rewritten reality, New York took the brunt of the Thanagarian invasion while the League were detained/on the run and other metahumans (and a few mutants) fought back. This will be referenced in other chapters._

* * *

"And we have no idea who this person was?" Superman asked as he quietly landed atop the apartment building that Clark Kent lived in.

"Not at this time," J'onn J'onnz' voice replied over the earpiece communicator. "Aside from the fact that he has enhanced reflexes, enhanced stamina, enhanced regenerative abilities, has access to teleportation technology that cannot be tracked, and bares a striking resemblance to Hal Jordan...that is all we know."

After taking a quick second to change into normal clothes that he had pulled from a hidden compartment attached to the maintenance shed that was next to the stairwell entrance, Clark Kent arched an eyebrow. "Sarcasm, J'onn?"

"It's been a trying day," J'onn said. "I'm still not sure what I witnessed when I scanned his mind. But something's not making sense."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure," J'onn admitted, uncertainty could clearly be heard in his voice. "I keep feeling like I'm missing something...that something's different...or I could be exhausted from putting in too many double shifts since the theft of the Annihilator armor."

"Still don't know who was behind that action?" Clark asked as he opened the door to the stairwell and started to walk down towards his floor.

"Oh, we have a pretty good idea, just no proof."

Clark nodded in understanding. He knew exactly who J'onn was talking about. "Well, as much as I'd like, we can't just go kicking in CADMUS' front door," he said.

"Well, this should cheer you up. According to Batman, one of CADMUS' key allies seems to be having problems."

"Really? Do Tell?"

"Apparently, LexCorp is coming under attack from Worthington Enterprises, they are attempting a hostile takeover of Luthor's subsidiary companies in New York."

Clark let out a resigned sigh at the mention of New York. "Not sure how I feel about that," he said, a slightly defeated tone in voice. "A lot of people are finding themselves being forced out of New York. But I really can't blame them given that they took the brunt of the invasion."

"I don't think I need to point out that locals are still burning Hawkgirl in effigy."

"No, J'onn, you don't." Clark sighed again as he remembered the devastation New York had suffered at the hands of the Thanagarians. On the other hand, part of him couldn't help thinking that the metahumans of New York brought it on themselves because they put up such open resistance that the Thanagarians figured it would be an appropriate response to bombard Ellis Island and blow up the Brooklyn Bridge. But he immediately shoved that thought aside because he also knew that those people fought back because the Justice League foolishly allowed themselves to be led into betrayal by one of their own. By the time the Justice League had broken free and taken the battle to the Thanagarians, the damage had already been done and an entire city viewed them as 'the heroes who let them burn' while other metahumans, some of them super powered criminals, took up the fight and paid the ultimate price. "It also doesn't help that Archangel has pretty much told us to stay out of HIS city."

"Yes," J'onn mused before chuckling slightly. "I sometimes wonder if Batman has a twin or doppelganger in New York."

Clark suppressed a shudder at that thought. Bruce was bad enough, but it would be really bad news if Archangel was an equal counterpart to the Dark Knight. He decided to change the subject as he opened up the door to his floor. "Speaking of Worthington Enterprises, they're also looking at purchasing the Daily Planet."

"And how are the employees taking that?" J'onn asked.

"Some are worried, but that's to be expected," Clark replied. "Lois is confident that we're safe, but Jimmy seems a little concerned despite Perry's assurances that no one's going to be cut. I'm even more curious now since you mentioned Worthington's attempts to take over Lex's New York based companies."

"Why's that?"

"Because Warren Worthington himself is coming to pay us a visit tomorrow. Perry seemed convinced that it's a done deal and the man is coming in to, as Perry put it, 'to check out his new kingdom before delivering his new edicts from on high'."

"Sounds to me that Mr. White might be a little concerned."

"We all are, J'onn," Clark admitted. "It's no big secret that his company, along with MaxCon, and Osborne Consolidated spent most of the last year financing the major rebuilding of Manhattan. And now they're focusing outside of their area...why now, after all these years?"

"Sounds like some of Batman's paranoia is rubbing off on you," J'onn said, amusement creeping back into his voice again. "On the other hand, look on the bright side. Should you lose your job, you can start pulling extra monitor duty up here."

"Not funny, J'onn," Clark snapped as he approached the door to his apartment, though he couldn't help smiling at that. "Wait...did you just crack a joke?"

"Who said I was joking?" J'onn asked before he terminated the link.

Clark shook his head and chuckled while he unlocked the door. "J'onn suddenly getting a sense of humor...when did that happen?"

"Probably when I decided to screw things up," rasped a voice in the darkened apartment. Before Clark could react, someone turned on the lamp to reveal a very haggard looking…

"Mxyzptlk?" For a moment, Clark felt the sense of alarm he usually felt when he encountered the fifth dimensional imp, but that rapidly dissipated into concern at the sickly being standing in front of him.

"Hey, Supes," the imp coughed. He pulled the brown overcoat he was wearing around himself a little tighter as sat down on Clark's couch. "Or can I just call you 'Clark'? Or would you prefer 'Kal'?" He coughed a couple more times before shaking his head and leaning back against the couch. "Does it really matter though?"

"Mxyzptlk?" Clark asked again.

"Jeez, Clark, you sound like a broken record. Yes, it's me...fifth dimensional pain in your ass...the guy who likes to fuck with you all the time for shits and grins...yeah, that guy." Mxyzptlk coughed some more, then brought his right hand up and frowned as he noticed it starting to fade in and out of existence again. "Shit...really don't have much time." He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating heavily before he opened them again to look at his now solid arm. "Okay...think that'll work. And dammit, Clark, don't just stand there. Pull up a chair, ask me why I'm here, what is going on, or...what have I done...you know the usual shit you ask me."

For a moment, Clark stood there and stared at what he considered to be one of his 'casual' enemies and realized that something was wrong...very wrong. The imp looked like he was dying.

"Mxyzptlk, what happened to you? You look like hell."

"Nice of you to notice, Supes," the imp shot back. "Look, I don't have much time, but I just want to say that this is all your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yeah, you're fault...I spent too much time messing with you that I took a page out of your book and tried to do something good for a change." Mxyzptlk paused for a moment as he considered what he just said before shrugging his shoulders. "Well, maybe not good...I guess it depends all on your perspective. Some people might say I really screwed things up."

"What did you do?" Clark asked. For some reason he felt a sense of dread, but he wasn't exactly sure why.

"Can I ask you something Clark? If you saw a bunch of people suffering, being screwed around with, or just being flat out tortured by beings like...well...beings like me, would you try to stop it?"

"I usually do," Clark replied, unsure where the imp was going with that question. "But what's that got to do with this?"

"You know this is not the only universe out there in the multi-verse, right? Oh you're familiar with alternate realities and parallel versions of your world, but there's so much more. There's multiple multi-verses with multiple realities out there. There was one that was so different, and yet so similar to your own. You did not exist, but others did. I loved hanging out there and watching them and all their different mutlti-dimensional counterparts. But there were a select group of them being screwed with by beings such as myself. I stayed out of it as I watched them literally being 're-written' only to go through different versions of the hellish lives they kept going through before."

Mxyzptlk paused again, a faraway look in his eyes. To Clark, it looked like the imp was replaying everything that had happened over and over again in his head. Then, a second later, his eyes came back into focus and he looked straight at Clark.

"But then the powers-that-be over there decided to pretty much kill these people off," he continued. "Or, if they didn't kill them, just permanently alter these people to the point that they never really existed at all. I couldn't let that happen, not to these people...they suffered too much...hell, the Parker kid alone has so much fucking emotional baggage, I'm surprised he didn't turn into a miniature Bruce Wayne.

"But I'm getting off track here. Long story short, I literally ripped all the versions of these people out of their universe, took them through the Bleed, and grafted them to this universe. In short, I effectively rewrote reality."

"You did what?" Clark asked sharply.

"Don't get your panties in a knot, Supes," Mxyzptlk snorted. "I took great pains to integrate them into this reality as much as I could. You people, the originals here, won't even notice it...in fact, it has already happened and the world's still here. Those I integrated, they will have memory flashes, but those will be diminished as they accept this as their main reality; only a few, including the Green Lantern look-a-like, know the truth. And by the way, that it his real face...though there was this time where he was cursed to look like Tom Cruise, but that was more of a running joke and a punishment for him."

"So you decided to play God and tried to re-write the universe because you felt sorry for a few people?" Clark wasn't sure if he sounded surprised or pissed off.

"Spare me the whole moral/ethical bullshit," the imp snapped. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing. At the very least, you would have tried to save as many as you could if you saw what I saw. And that's exactly what I did." He started coughing again, this time more violently and his body started convulsing with each cough. "And, like you," he rasped, "I'm willing to pay the price."

This time, Myxzptlk's whole body shuddered and started to fade in and out.

"What's happening?" Clark's anger was once again replaced with concern. He reached out to gently grab the imp by the shoulder, but his arm passed through the now spectral looking imp.

The imp gave him a sad smile. "The one consequence of rewriting the universe, Superman...everything gets rewritten, especially the guy doing the 're-write'."

"No, wait, there has to be another way," Clark said. For a moment, the imp had become solid and Clark managed to get a grip on his shoulder. "Stay with me...you're not going out like this."

"Nothing you can do this time, Superman," the imp half-chuckled/choked. "Funny, I've always enjoyed saying that, but now...not so much." Then his expression became serious. "One life for everyone else, Clark. You'd have done the same, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But what, I'm not a hero?" Mxyzptlk shrugged, wincing again as his body started to become incorporeal again. "You're probably right, but I still think it was the right thing to do. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time. Just do me a favor, will ya?"

"What is it?" Clark asked.

The imp looked confused for a moment. "I...I'm having trouble remembering how to say it...Kl...Klpt..."

"Kltpzyxm," Clark said softly.

"Heh, yeah...thanks... Kltpzyxm." It was barely more than a whisper, but the effect was almost instantaneous. But instead of fading out and disappearing in flash of light, the imp seemed to ripple like a holographic image before dissipating into a mist like form that faded away completely.

"See ya around, Clark." The voice was faint and echoed slightly before fading out as well, leaving Metropolois' man of steel staring down at a now empty couch, a somber look on his face as he realized what his one-time foe had actually done and what he had given up.

"Goodbye, Mxyzptlk."

* * *

 _End Note: And yes, Archangel is who you think it is._


	5. Enter Sinister 6 and Archangel

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any of these characters Marvel/Disney (who has decided to treat their flagship characters like shit just to spite FOX over the movie rights) and DC/Warner Brothers (who don't treat their characters like shit, but they need to something about the whole "CW 'verse vs the DC cinematic 'verse" shit that Zack Snyder keeps trying to pull).

 **Author's Notes:** Yes, as the title indicates, we have a new Sinister 6. But, after the Thanagarian Invasion, some things changed. I also blame watching the first "Triple-X" movie one late night before I started writing this. And if you want to know the "theme music" I imagine the Sinister 6 using, it's "Bad" by a group called Downstait.

Though the whole line-up of the Sinister 6 doesn't show up, here are the members that are here.

Shocker

Elektro (yes, spelled with a K and Max Dillon is a black man in his mid-20s in this 'verse, but he's NOT Jamie Foxx)

Goblyn (a mutated Harry Osborn)

Toad (Todd Tolenski...mid twenties, older version of the X-Men Evolution Toad)

Abe Jenkins (Mach 1...not appearing in this chapter)

Melissa Gold Jenkins (Songbird...not appearing in this chapter)

Just to let you all know, the first 8 to 10 chapters are going to consist of world building which is why I'm jumping around a bit. Also not sure about this chapter so I might be making changes to it.

And yes, I'll confess, still not a fan of John Stewart or Shayera Hol...but I don't hate them as much as I hate the current Marvel lineup.

* * *

 **Manhattan, New York**

 **Abandoned LexCorp Tower**

Herman Schultz stood alone in the dimly lit basement, tapping the headset he wore as he glanced at one of the three reinforced "rumble camera" stations standing nearby.

"Okay, everybody, final check," he announced. "Building clear?"

"Elektro here, all the crews have checked in and cleared out any squatters."

"Goblyn checking in, everyone's in the designated safety zones, except for Parker."

Schultz rolled his eyes and smiled. "Of course. Harry, don't pitch him too much shit."

"Aw, man," Goblyn groaned, "not even for old times sake?"

"No, Harry," chipped in Todd Tolenski. "Give him grief and Aunt May won't be inviting us for Sunday barbeque any more."

"Ouch...no barbeque, fine. I'll leave him alone."

Herman smirked at the comments going back and forth as he mentally went through preparation for this gig.

 _Okay, gauntlet calibrations are set, suit's at one hundred percent. Shit...can't believe I'm actually doing this and that people actually are cheering me on._

"Hey, Todd, what's it looking like out there?"

"Full house, Herm. The side streets are packed, the Times Square Marquee screen is patching in as are various other big screens across town. Give the word and we go live!"

 _Shit...it's hard to believe that, one year ago, I was some second-string criminal and now we're heroes. Okay, maybe not heroes, but people don't hate us as much._

Then a sad expression crossed his face as he remembered the events from almost a year ago when everything changed. He remembered watching Osborn tower fall, the people dying in the streets as they were crushed by rubble or burned to a cinder by alien weapons. He remembered the mutant girl getting ripped in half by a pair of alien weapons as she tried to take some people safety by phasing them to the subway tunnels below. He remembered the screams, and then he remembered the rage as he undid the safeties on his gauntlets and unleashed hell. Everything vanished in flash of red rage as winged invaders were torn apart by his sonic/air blasts.

"Yo, Herm, you still there?" Harry's voice broke through Herman's memory.

"Yeah, Harry, I'm here...kick on the cameras."

"Okay, man...cameras on line in 3...2...1..."

* * *

The massive video screens at Times Square and other key locations flashed the fiery "Sinister 6" logo backed by a high energy guitar rift that served as the usual opening to a Sinister 6 video. Five seconds later, it cut to a live video feed of Herman "Shocker" Schultz grinning/glaring at the camera, causing most of the gathered crowds to roar in approval, but quickly calming down has he began to speak.

"Hey, everyone, Shocker here...as you all probably know, I'm here in the basement level of the LexCorp Building here in Manhattan."

At the mention of Lex Luthor's company, a chorus of boos and jeering erupted from the crowd as Schultz kept talking.

"Yeah, you know Lex... ** _the_** Lex Luthor...the guy who, when those winged assholes came calling, ordered everyone of his employees to pull up stakes, abandon ship, and flee the city while the rest of us got occupied, shot at, and killed. This is also the same Lex Luthor who, the year before, bought out Osborn Industries after Norman Osborn was killed in a "freak accident" when one of his chemical plants blew up with him in it and hospitalizing Harry Osborn who hasn't fully recovered and probably never will."

Herman paused for a moment and grinned. "Sorry, Goblyn, but it's true...you're not right in the head."

This got some laughter out of the crowd, especially from those people who were in Times Square where Goblyn was perched on top of the big screen chugging down a beer. He stopped what he was doing, knelt down and gave the big screen the finger before going back to drinking his beer much to the amusement of the crowd.

"Anyway," Schultz continued, "let us not forget all the other shit Luthor has done. Bribery, corruption, terrorism, murder, and being able to get away with it because he has friends in high places. Hell, even the so called almighty heroes of the Justice League haven't done shit when it comes to bringing him down. And now this asshole is trying to run for president?"

At the mention of the Justice League a wave of boos echoed through the streets of Manhattan, getting louder when it was mentioned that Luthor was running for president.

"However, because he abandoned his holdings in New York, others have been snatching up what he left behind. However, he thinks he can come back and reclaim this building despite the fact that he and Worthington Enterprises are fighting over the land. That being said, this ugly piece of shit is still standing with his name on it despite the fact that the city has decided that it's taken too much damage from last year's invasion and had it condemned. And because he's got some high priced lawyers and bribed a few state officials, he's prevented the city from actually carrying out the demolition of this eyesore.

"However, seeing as how we're 'bad guys' and we don't work for the city, Luthor's legal BS doesn't apply to us."

Schultz gave the camera another crooked grin before pointing at it.

"Lex, you are a very fucked up and mentally unstable man...and you know what they do to mentally unstable assholes, right? It's time for some 'Shock Therapy'."

At the mention of his trademark words, the crowd erupted with a mass roar of approval as they saw the man known as "Shocker" raise his arms, his fore-arm gauntlets glowing a yellowish-green color as he started to count down. A digital ten count started and the people started counting down with him.

"10...9…8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1..."

* * *

Back in the basement of the building, Herman clenched his fists as he brought his arms down, sending a shockwave that reverberated through the entire building at just the right wavelength. The generator on his chest kicked on, interacting with his gauntlets and forming a protective bubble around himself and a five foot radius of the area he stood in as the building began to literally crumble to dust and implode around him. Then, after a quick two count, he brought his arms straight up and increased his gauntlets to full power, literally turning everything falling directly onto him into dust.

To the public watching on the outside, the sky scraper imploded on itself as a pillar of concentrated kinetic energy was unleashed skyward. They all saw the live video stream go dark as the building came down on Shocker. For several seconds, the people watched in fascination and concern as the feed switched to an outside camera showing he now leveled building and no sign of the man who brought it down.

From his perch in Times Square, Goblyn shook his head, making a quick cross gesture with a taloned finger across his chest while mentally offering a quick prayer. "C'mon better not have killed yourself."

Suddenly the middle of the rubble started to vibrate before crumbling away to reveal Shocker standing in the middle of his protective bubble, kneeling slightly, covered in dust, but grinning as a camera zoomed in on him while patching back into the broadcast feed.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you fuck over a Luthor," Schutlz announced, causing the crowd watching the event erupt in a deafening roar while the video feed cut to the Sinister 6 logo backed by Downstaits "Bad" before cutting to aerial feed of the now demolished LexCorp building.

* * *

 ** _Watchtower_**

 ** _Earth Orbit_**

Back on the Watchtower, five of the founding members of the Justice League watched the feed being projected in their main conference room. Four of them had concerned looks on their faces, but the fifth member couldn't resist chuckling slightly.

"Hey, you gotta' admit they got style," Flash said.

"Yeah, the kind of style that's inviting trouble," John Stewart remarked, irritation in his voice. "It's hard to believe that, only a year ago, these guys were just a bunch of second-string criminals and now they're still criminals, but everyone's looking at them as heroes."

"Well, you know what they say; what some call outlaws, others will call heroes."

"That's not funny, Wally, we should be locking these bastards up."

"Oh yeah, good idea, John." The humor quickly faded out of the Flash's voice. "In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly welcome in New York and they're still burning likenesses of Shayera in effigy."

"Which I don't understand," Wonder Woman said as she shook her head. "I'll admit I have my problems with her, but they can't blame her for what happened."

"It's not just her." Everyone looked in Batman's direction as he spoke from his darkened section of the table. "It's Thanagarians in general and I can't blame them for that hatred since they took the brunt of the invasion."

"Hey, everyone got hit, it wasn't just them."

"That may be true Flash, but they were made an example when they tried to fight the occupation," J'onn J'onnz replied.

"Which was stupid," John Stewart snapped. "A bunch of second-stringers, untrained metas, and civilians should have known better. They brought it on themselves."

"Damn, John, that's cold," Flash said.

"I'm sorry, Wally, but it's the truth. The Thanagarians only reacted the way they did because a bunch of super-powered beings and some civilians tried to resist instead of lying low and let us handle it."

"Well, gee, let me look at it from their perspective," Flash countered. "What were we doing while the invasion happened...oh yeah, we were on the run and got captured. I hate to break it to you, but I think normal people had written us off when it was announced we were captured and that Shayera was involved with that."

"But after the Thanagarians made an 'example' of those who resisted, someone took the gloves off." Batman tapped a couple keys on the holographic keyboard hovering in front of him, killing the live feed from the holo-projector and replacing it with the video footage of a winged figure wearing body armor and a darkened helmet that covered his entire face. His wings, unlike the Thanagarians were made of some sort of metallic substance that discharged a wave a metallic projectiles that tore into various Thanagarian solidiers. At one point, the figure turned around sharply with one wing extended and decapitated one soldier before cutting another in half.

"Archangel," J'onn J'onnz said while the others, except Batman, looked on in mild horror. "It would appear that he's lived up to his name."

"Do we even know who this bastard is?" Stewart asked.

"No, but we do know that he rallied the resistance and organized them into a fighting force. He was able to get people like the Sinister 6 and others to back him, including heroes like Spiderman." J'onn paused for a moment a thoughtful look on his face.

"Something wrong, J'onn?" Wonder Woman asked.

"No Diana, it's just that I remember when I telepathically scanned Deadpool's mind, I got an image of Spiderman and the others, but it was the oddest thing."

"How so?"

"It was as if I was seeing them for the first time, but that's not possible."

"Of course it's not possible," Flash said. "I mean, the kid's been operating in New York for nearly three years now. I'm surprised we haven't offered him membership."

"It was considered, but disregarded," Batman said. "It seems Archangel is rather territorial and has made it clear that we are to stay out of HIS city and away from HIS people."

"Seriously?" Flash asked. "And you decided to back off when he told you that?"

Batman tossed a piece of paper and what appeared to be a short, but elongated shard, of metal on the table. "This was found embedded in my computer terminal with the note attached."

Flash picked up the note and read it. "'Gotham is your city, New York is mine. Stay within your boundaries, rich-boy. You and your little club in the sky are not welcome here.' Damn, this was in the Bat Cave?"

There was irritation in the Dark Knight's voice as he spoke. "I don't know how he bypassed the security, let alone figured out who I was."

"Wow," said Flash as he shook his head and put the note back on the table. "Dark, mysterious, territorial, able to bypass the most secure places on the planet, and probably paranoid...gee, does that sound like anyone else we know?"

"This isn't funny Wally," Stewart half growled.

"Oh, but it is. I mean, think about it, we kind of formed this group in response to one alien invasion. We screwed up when the Thanagarians invaded and others stepped up just like we did."

"We didn't screw up, Wally." John started to rise up out of his chair and glare at the speedster. "We saved the world, didn't we?"

"Yeah, and at what cost?" Wally asked. "No offense, but most of us didn't lose anyone and didn't see our homes burned and loved ones slaughtered." He paused for a moment as he remembered a conversation he had with someone who he had once considered a friend. "We weren't there when their bodies burned as they screamed."

Stewart's anger quickly faded. "Look, I know some people died and they got hit hard-"

Flash laughed, but there was very little humor in it. "Oh yeah, they got hit hard. Talk to Jimmy Olsen, he was there. Ask him why he hardly talks to Superman or us anymore."

At the mention of Olsen's name, everyone was now focused on the Flash.

"You've been talking to Jimmy Olsen?" Batman asked.

"As the Flash, only a couple times, and that was during the time when I was running supplies into town and he was volunteering at one of the shelters that were trying to provide aid to those affected." He glared at the others, but tried to keep the accusatory tone to a minimum. "I think the fact that I was one of the few League members who actually got involved is the only reason he still talks to me."

"I read some of his columns that he wrote for the Daily Planet," Batman said, "but I get the feeling he left some things out."

"Yeah, he did. Hey, when Supes gets in, ask him if he knows about Olsen attending a support group." Flash didn't even bother hiding the look of disgust on his face as he saw confusion on most of the other members' faces. "Yeah...just what I thought…most of you spend too much time up here to pay attention to the people were supposed to protect."

"That's not fair, Wally," Stewart said. "We've been-"

"Yeah, we've been busy," Flash said, cutting the Green Lantern off again. J'onn dispatches, we mostly take the so called 'big assignments', others get the minor assignments, but most of us ignore the crap going on down below because it's 'beneath' us." Wally West reached up and pulled back the cowl on his costume. "Y'know, it's times like this that I'm glad I still keep my day job. I'm done here." He got up out of his chair and then pointed at the holographic image of Archangel. "Before you pass judgment on that guy and his people, take a good look in the mirror and ask what we have done, or failed to do, that caused that guy and the others to rise up."

With those final words, he disappeared in a crimson blur, leaving the remaining four lost in thought.

* * *

 _ **Central Park**_

 _ **The Memorial of the Fallen**_

Jimmy Olsen stood in front of one of the statues of the "fallen heroes". It wasn't a very tall statue since it was life-sized. It was that of a five and a half foot woman with short cropped hair and a smirk on her face. Jimmy remembered actually meeting the woman briefly a year earlier during the invasion. It was very briefly, but the encounter left its mark.

(flashback)

 _He had been in New York when the invasion happened and Perry told him to stay there and keep reporting in and taking pictures. He stopped being a photographer the moment soldiers started rounding up people and shooting. He tried to get some people to safety, but was caught by a couple of the Thanagarian troops._

 _Then the blond haired girl showed up, lobbing glowing balls of energy that exploded. While the soldiers were busy dealing with the unknown woman, he managed to get the people out of the bus and yelled at them to get into the subway tunnels. He saw one the Thanagarians lying on the ground, body half burned and mutilated from the explosion. He wasn't sure what possessed him to do so, but he picked up the alien's energy weapon and made his way to where he could still hear some fighting. He passed some more dead and dismembered alien bodies as he approached the battle._

 _Then he heard the young lady scream before he saw her impaled on one Thanagarian's sword. Without even thinking, he brought the weapon up and fired, not quite sure how he even knew it worked. He kept firing until both of the remaining aliens were down before running to the girl who was still alive._

 _"Hang on," he said as knelt down next to her. "I can get you down below and maybe we can patch you up."_

 _"Sorry," the girl rasped. "Don't think I have that long." She coughed up some blood, but managed to talk. "You should go."_

 _Jimmy shook his head. "No, you saved my life, I'm not letting you go like this."_

 _"How noble," he heard a man sneer behind him. "And how pathetic." Jimmy turned and saw two more Thanagarians standing there._

 _Jimmy sighed and shook his head as he stood back up. "If you expect me to beg for my life, you can go fuck yourselves."_

 _"Oh, look at the human pretending to be brave...very path-"_

 _Both soldiers suddenly staggered back, a matching shocked look on their faces, before their heads tumbled to the ground before being followed by their bodies._

 _A winged figure stepped out of the shadows to reveal a dark armored figure. While it had wings, it was clearly not Thanagarian. For a moment the tall dark figure stood there, studying Jimmy, then he walked past the young man to kneel down next o the young woman. When the man spoke, the voice was distorted, but there was some emotion to it as he reached down and gently closed the woman's eyes._

 _"Goodbye, Tabitha." The figure then looked at Jimmy. "Go, don't let her sacrifice be in vain."_

 _Jimmy was half tempted to listen and run, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "No, not this time," he said, shaking his head. "I'm tired of running and hiding."_

 _(end flashback)_

"Tabitha Smith," Jimmy read the inscription at the statue's base. "It sucks that I never learned your full name until now. I mean, I wanted to come, but I wasn't sure I could bring myself to do it." He placed a white rose at the statue's feet before he continued talking. "It's funny, y'know...I've seen a lot of shit, lived through a couple alien invasions, but this last time was different. I don't know why, but I always felt a sense of safety or comfort all the other times, but I guess that's because I knew or expected Superman and the League to save the day, which they did. But this last time...when they weren't around because they got captured, that sense of safety was gone and, to be honest, I was scared shitless.

"All I could think of though, when they started shooting, was getting myself and anyone I came across to safety. Then you showed up when it looked like I was done for and saved my life and the lives of others...only to die a few minutes later. I only got your first name when HE showed up...but not your full name until much later. Then I looked you up and, well, your criminal record wasn't too bad, but it wasn't good either...but it wasn't a criminal that I saw that day. It was someone who stepped up when the other heroes failed."

"And you didn't let her sacrifice be in vain," a distorted voice spoke from the shadows.

Jimmy turned to see the armored being known as Archangel stepping into the lit area of the memorial site. "I was wondering if you were going to show up," he said as he approached the winged figure, stopping when he was about five feet away. "Wasn't sure if I could bring myself to come back here after what happened, but I owed it to her."

Jimmy wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Archangel chuckle softly. "I think you paid that debt when you stayed and fight, Olsen. You're not weak...you never were. And you proved it when you didn't run."

"Better to die fighting than running off like a coward, right?" Jimmy asked. "Would it change your opinion of me if I told you I was still scared shitless the entire time?"

"Not really." There was definitely an amused tone in Archangel's voice, even with the distortion. "Only idiots have no fear, it's the strong that acknowledge it, but press on regardless."

"Does that make the Sinister 6 a bunch of idiots then?" Jimmy asked as he gestured to the roaring cheers of the crowd echoing through the city.

"No, they're just batshit insane," Archangel replied. "So how long to do intend to be in New York?"

"Not long," Jimmy said. "I felt it was time to pay my respects. I'll probably get something to eat, then catch a train home. I do have a column I need to write since it's been almost a year after the invasion."

"A waste of time," Archangel snorted. "You'll be relegated to some back page in favor of Lane or Kent."

"Hey, they're the big guns over there, they're pretty damn good and deserve to fight over the front page."

"Maybe," Archangel admitted, "but how are the others going to flourish if they're not allowed to spread their wings. Ever thought of leaving the Planet for better places?"

Jimmy smirked at the man. "Really, winged metaphors coming from you? That's sad."

"I've been informed my sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired."

"Well, depending what paper you read, you're seen as Batman's doppelganger or evil twin. As for leaving the Planet, the money's too good and I really don't like stabbing Perry in the back like that."

"So it's more of a loyalty thing, then."

"Well yeah," Jimmy said. "He took me under his wing when I was just a twelve year old kid doing a school project and kept me on, showing me the ropes. He's been like a second father to me." Then he gave Archangel a suspicious look. "Why so curious about my employment?"

"Olsen, you were part of my crew during the occupation and I always keep track of my crew, even if they tend to keep to themselves." Archangel paused for a moment before he asked his next question. "You still in the support group?"

Jimmy nodded. "Yeah, I found a group of survivors that I meet up with in Gotham every other week at the university. It's helped a lot, I'm not throwing up anymore at the smell of frying bacon, but I'm still unable to eat it. Not sure if I'll ever be able to since you know what it reminds me of."

The armored figure nodded in understanding. "Yeah, not something you want to relive."

For a few seconds, the two men stood there silently as they looked at the memorial before Archangel started reciting the names off the statues.

"Fred Dukes, Lance Alvers, Katherine Pride, Tabitha Smith, John Allerdyce, Allison Blaire, Sam Guthrie, Rahne Sinclaire...some were good, some were not so good, but they were heroes in the end."

"Yeah," Jimmy said, "but what happens when people forget about them?"

"That's why the survivors should honor the memory of the fallen, Olsen."

"Sounds good and all, but do you-" Jimmy stopped as he turned and realized that Archangel was no longer there, but had vanished without a trace. "Huh...starting to wonder if the Batman doppelganger rumors are true."

* * *

 ** _Worthington Enterprises Building_**

Archangel disengaged his suit's cloaking ability as he landed on top of the Worthington Enterprises building in Manhattan where he saw a purple haired Asian woman standing on the ledge looking in the direction of Central park. He tapped a button at the base of his helmet, causing it to fold in on itself and retract into his suit, revealing a blond haired man with a handsome face.

"Okay, Bets, talk to me...what did you get off him?" Warren Worthington asked.

The purple haired telepath gave him an approving nod as she stepped away from the ledge. "He's still in pain, but he's coping. When you asked him about leaving the Planet, his surface thoughts indicated that he had been considering it several times. His loyalty to Perry White is pretty much keeping him there."

"And his thoughts on the League?"

"He still respects them, but not as much. He knows that they're not infallible, but what happened during the invasion did take a toll on him. His relationship with Superman is a little strained. Overall, I would say that he's gotten a glimpse of reality and, while it burned him, he didn't break."

"You saw what he did last year, Betsy. He didn't back down, even when he faced the possibility of dying. You don't find that in just anyone, let alone a flatscan. It takes a certain mindset, and I want people with that mindset with me."

A look of concern crossed her face. "Are you sure he'll be ready to face the truth?"

"A lot of people are going to have to face the truth when the time comes, Elisabeth." Warren's voice softened as he used his lover's full name. "There's a storm coming and I want people I can rely on to stand with me when it arrives. Last year's invasion was pretty much a baptism of fire...but we both know the real thing is coming when HE finds his way back here."

"James Olsen has potential," Psylocke admitted. "But I'm not sure if he'll like the idea."

"Only a fool turns down a weapon when fighting a war, even it was once used by the enemy. And you know Olsen has no problem with that."

"Speaking of which, you need to contact Adrian Toomes," Pyslocke said as she handed Warren a cell-phone. "He says the prototypes are ready for testing."

"Good," Warren said as he headed towards the elevator that led to the building below. "Now I just need to find a few more people to sign on."

"And don't forget, we have that little party being thrown at MaxCon tomorrow night."

"Don't see what the big deal is. It's basically a meet and greet after I tour the Daily Planet."

"Maybe so, but we might have a problem."

Warren glanced over at telepath as they stepped into the elevator. "Really, how much of a problem?"

"Apparently, someone is crashing the party because they can claim partial ownership of the Daily Planet."

"Oh really? Who?"

"Bruce Wayne."

"Oh...shit...yeah, that's going to be a problem."


	6. Changes I

_**Disclaimer**_ : _X-Men, owned and currently being abused by Marvel (because of some pettiness and bullshittery over movie rights with Fox). Justice League owned by Warner/DC (who prefers to keep their brand war internal by pitting their movie division against their television division...actually, it's mostly just Snyder being an asshole, but hey, it's Snyder...it's part of his charm)_.

 _ **Author's Notes**_ : _Short update here. Yes, Jimmy Olsen is kind of the main character in this story...well, one of them. Not too sure about how this chapter turned out, so I might edit/revise it a little._

* * *

 _ **Daily Planet**_

 _ **Metropolis, Delaware**_

"Relax everyone," Perry White assured the various personnel surrounding him in the Planet's bullpen area of cubicles. "We've dealt with changes in ownership before and I doubt the new majority owner will want to change things much since we are one of the top-rated news publications in the world."

"Yeah," someone muttered out loud. "Unless Pretty Boy Worthington suddenly decides to just gut us by sending people to the Bugle before selling off the remains."

"That's not going to happen, Colton."

"If you say so, Perry, but we all know what he did to Jameson when he bought out the Bugle."

Perry paused for a moment, remembering what he had read about J. Jonah Jameson's rather public and humiliating retirement announcement. Some people felt that Jameson was needlessly humiliated, but Perry felt that Jameson ultimately brought it down on himself by going on a personal crusade against Spiderman and other "rogue" heroes who didn't fall under the banner of the "true heroes" like the Justice League. While Perry was certain that a good number of people shared Jameson's point of view, he was not one of them.

 _And apparently,_ he thought to himself, _a lot of New Yorkers aren't happy with Jonah ever since they found out that he fled the city before the Thanagarians occupied it. It's no surprise that MaxCon and Worthington were able to move in so easily after that and literally toss Jonah out on his ass. Though I'm not sure if that's a good thing._

And now, the MaxCon/Worthington group was here in Metropolis, buying controlling shares of the Daily Planet and leaving Perry White with the unenviable task of having to assure everybody to remain calm and that "decisions hadn't been made yet". He a happened to glance over in the direction of Lane and Kent who were standing outside Lane's office, silently discussing what was going on. Though he was certain they were safe from whatever MaxCon and Worthington had planned, Perry noted that both reporters showed concern for the others.

 _Which is not surprising, particularly in Kent's case. He tends to worry too much about his fellow coworkers...which is amusing since he and Lane are an item and she can be very cut-throat when it comes to fighting over a story._

Then he looked over at a cubicle in the corner and noticed a lone figure standing alone by himself, looking at the rest of the activity with a guarded expression on their face. Perry frowned as he studied the young man he had known for over a decade and considered to be like a son.

 _A son who acts more like a scarred veteran who returned after just fighting in an ugly war...but I guess that wouldn't be far from the truth._

"Look," Perry finally said, addressing the people gathered around him, but keeping an eye on Jimmy Olsen. "We won't know until Worthington gets here. For now, just go about as if it's business as usual and we will deal with things as they happen."

"Which would be starting right about now," announced a new voice. Everyone turned to see a young man in his late twenties or early thirties with short blond wavy hair and wearing an expensive Italian suit standing just outside the elevators. To the man's right was a young asian woman wearing a leather skirt and jacket with long dark purple hair tied back in a ponytail. They were both flanked by three intimidating security guards wearing expensive suits that, while not Italian, were still more expensive that whatever could be found in Metropolis' more exclusive clothing stores.

"Hi," the newcomer said to the now silenced crowd. "I'm Warren Worthington the Third, and this is my mongol horde that is assisting me in my plundering and burning of the village I'm about to conquer."

The purple haired woman, before anyone could react, still stood next to Worthington and kept a calm and calculating expression on her face as she delivered a sharp elbow that caused the man to wince.

"Okay, that was a bad joke," Worthington wheezed slightly before regaining his composure. "But listen to your boss, it's business as usual for the time being and, relax, people...I have no intention of kicking people out of their home. I may be a billionaire businessman, but I'm not completely heartless."

Perry noted the hint of a smirk on the face of the Asian woman, but saw it disappear quickly behind her calculating facade.

 _This must be Elizabeth Braddock, Worthington's assistant._ Perry tried to remember the details he knew of the young woman. _If she's here, it means that she's already come up with plans for Worthington's takeover and is probably here to oversee whatever changes they intend to make._

"Mr. Worthington," Perry said as he stepped towards the man, extending his hand in greeting. "I'll be honest when I say that I, like everyone else here, aren't quite assured of that fact."

The young billionaire shook the man's hand and smiled. "Of which fact, the 'no intention of kicking people out of their home' part, or the 'completely heartless' part?"

"All of the above," Perry replied as they broke the handshake.

Worthington chuckled at Perry's response and playfully punched the older man lightly in the shoulder. "Oh yeah, there it is, the famed Perry White 'blunt honesty'." He momentarily glanced over at Braddock. "Betsy, take a note, we need to keep that."

"So noted." Braddock's voice was neutral, but there was a slight smile on her face when she spoke.

Then Worthington turned back to Perry. "Relax, Perry, there won't be many changes. I may be a clueless billionaire, but I'm not a stupid one. The Planet is one of the world's top ranked news media outlets, there's no way I'm to fix something that isn't broken. But I think this is a discussion that we can continue in your office."

"Of course," Perry said, gesturing towards his office. "This way, please."

Worthington glanced over his shoulder at Braddock. "Betsy, I think I can take it from here. Inform Pietro that his asset will be available shortly." He then followed Perry to his office while Braddock pulled out a cellphone to make a call.

* * *

Jimmy Olsen felt a sense of nervous tension ripple through his body, causing a small amount of adrenaline to surge through his system. Most people in his situation, a situation where someone realizes that their job might be at stake, would experience a sense of panic and worry about whether they were going to be employed in the next few hours. But not Jimmy; the moment the adrenaline kicked in, the nervous tension vanished and the world seemed to slow down slightly and become more crisp and clearer around him.

He could hear snippets of hushed conversations, the soft humming of various office machinery, and the nervous tapping of fingers on keyboards. He could see the nervous body language from most of the people gathered in the bullpen, even Lane and Kent appeared concerned. He could also make out various scents in the room...from old coffee to that cigarette smoke that still lingered on one co-worker's clothes. The smell of some exotic flower snapped him out of his thoughts, causing him to focus on the source of that smell that was now approaching him.

"Mr. Olsen." The Asian woman stopped a few feet away from Jimmy, just out of arm's reach, still flanked by the three men who had escorted her and Worthington in earlier. "I'm Elizabeth Braddock."

"Yes, you are," Jimmy replied, still standing there with arms folded. "I know who you are and I know the function you serve in Worthington's inner circle."

Braddock smirked at him. "Oh really? And what function do you think that is?"

"Honestly?" Jimmy asked.

"Honestly."

"Fine. In addition to the fact that you're sleeping with him, you're also his right hand. While some may think otherwise, it is a position that you earned. In fact, I'm guessing you and Worthington were business partners long before you started shacking up. While he appears to be the arrogant and snobby playboy, he doesn't act as clueless as Bruce Wayne. Even if you weren't lovers, you'd still be working for him for the same reason your three trained attack dogs do...out of loyalty. You went through something together; I can tell because you all move more like a coordinated team, watching each other's backs."

One of the three bodyguards, a tall muscular man with short-cropped black hair, chuckled softly. There was a faint accent to his voice that Jimmy pegged as Eastern European or possibly Russian. "Oh, I like this one."

A brief glance over her shoulder silenced the man before Braddock turned to reface Jimmy. Instead of anger, genuine amusement flashed across her face. "Very good, Mr. Olsen. You really do have good observation skills."

Jimmy gave her tiny smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Not really...did a little bit of reading up on you and Worthington last night when I heard about the buyout. The rest was just paying a little more attention to the surroundings. Something I picked up..." He paused for a moment as memories of a year ago flashed through his mind. "Let's just say that it's a very healthy habit I learned very quickly to pick up."

For a moment, Braddock's expression softened. There was something in her eyes that told Jimmy that she knew that he was talking about his time in New York during the Occupation. Then the concern vanished to replaced by the smirk as she spoke.

"Well, you know what they say," she said, giving him a wink. "The devil is in the details, and only those who dare can see them."

Those words suddenly sent a chill down his spine. The chill almost vanished as another adrenaline surge briefly pulsed through his body. Once again, his senses kicked into high gear as he looked over Braddock and the three men guarding her.

 _They move as a unit, they're all in good shape, and something tells me that Ms. Braddock's figure is clearly not from just going to a gym or having work done. She moves like a dancer or at least someone trained to move that way. The guards may be acting like grunts, but they clearly aren't. That Russian guy though...his voice sounds familiar. And the 'devil' reference is just too close to home._

"Who are you really, Ms. Braddock?" Jimmy asked.

Instead of answering, the purple haired Asian woman only smiled at him before turning to walk away. Her three guards followed, but the third one with the Russian accent paused to look at him for a moment. Then, to Jimmy's surprise, the man smiled as he said, "You can't go back, Olsen, but you can always come home."

As Jimmy watched the Russian man walk away to join the others, he barely noticed Clark and Lois approach him. He mentally berated himself for not paying attention, but Braddock and the others seemed more of a threat than the two reporters.

"Something wrong, Jimmy?" Clark asked, obvious concern on his face.

Jimmy managed to smile and laugh convincingly. "No, Clark," he replied. "Just an unusual conversation with Worthington's hatchet lady."

"That was more than an unusual conversation," Lois snorted in amusement. "C'mon Jimmy, what gives?"

"Depends who's asking," Jimmy said, his expression becoming more serious. "Am I talking to Lois, or am I talking to Ms. Lane from the Daily Planet?"

Lois backed away slightly, holding her hands up. "Whoa, there, Jimmy...just actual honest curiosity there."

Jimmy shook his head and managed to give her a fake smile. "Sorry, Lois...it's all right. I'm still...you know...still trying to adjust."

"Look, Jimmy, I know it's been a year," Clark said, "but it might take more time to ease back into things."

 _Understatement of the year there, Clark,_ Jimmy thought to himself.

"I know Clark, but I'm also sick of people looking at me like they think I'm fragile and I'm going to break at any moment." Jimmy then gestured in Lois' direction. "Case in point."

"Hey, that's not true!" Lois exclaimed before lowering her voice when she realized her outburst was attracting the attention of her co-workers. "Okay," she admitted, "it's true, we're all worried about you. You haven't talked much about what happened to you during those two months in New York."

"Not much to talk about, Lois. Thanagarians occupied the Big Apple, declared Martial Law, and it got ugly. All I did was just run and hide."

 _Run, hide, plant some bombs, raid a detention camp, and kill some aliens...and you expect me to act normal after that?_

"What do you mean?" Clark asked. "Of course we don't expect you to act normal."

Jimmy silently cursed to himself when he realized he might have said that last part out loud. He had done a lot of things in those two months he had not told the others about. Hell, he was surprised that he actually did those things. He had survived through some weird shit like like supervillains, terrorist attacks, and other dimensional/planetary invasions...but the Thanagarian Occupation was different. It changed him.

 _And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not._

"No, Clark," he finally said. "You expected a victim. And yeah, some shit happened, but it's not breaking me."

"Okay, but you need to let someone in. If not us, someone else, friends, family, anyone," Lois said, placing a comforting hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "At the very least, try talking to Superman...he can help-"

The moment Lois mentioned Superman, the expression on Jimmy's face went stone cold. "Even Superman can't help everybody, Lois," he said as he turned and went back to his cubicle. "I just hope it's a lesson you don't have to learn like I did. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a column to write."

Lois was about to say something, but Clark immediately grabbed her arm and led her away from the cubicle and out of earshot. "Smooth, Lois, very smooth."

"But Clark, something's definitely off with him. I mean, the way he talks about y-er...Superman, the passive-aggressive attitude, the more guarded responses, something happened to him out there."

"Yeah, he survived an alien occupation."

"He's survived a few of those, Clark, we all have...but he's acting more like a soldier with a bad case of PTSD. He needs help."

* * *

Unknown to the two reporters, Elizabeth Braddock watched the two of them. Her telepathic and lip reading abilities made up for not being able to hear the conversation and she couldn't help smiling at what she picked up. Oh...if they only knew how accurate and also how wrong Lois was about Mr. Olsen.

She then glanced at the closed door of Perry White's office.

 _And hopefully, we can take care of that situation. Olsen no longer belongs here, Ms. Lane. He's not one of you anymore, he's with us...and we always protect our own._

* * *

Perry waited until his guest sat down in a chair before he sat down behind his desk. Before he could say anything, Worthington beat him to it.

"I'll be blunt, Mr. White. I intend to keep the Planet as it is and there will be raises for everyone, but there is a condition."

"Reassurance, but with a string attached," Perry said. "Can't say I'm surprised. Is this where you tell me that I can expect the occasional story to be quashed or that I should put out the occasional 'planted' story?"

Worthington laughed and shook his head. "No, Mr. White, nothing like that. I said I want the Planet as it is, and I mean it."

"Except for the one condition."

"Yep...that's it."

"And what is that condition exactly, Mr. Worthington?" Perry asked, wondering if the billionaire was going to ask for his soul or first born in exchange for keeping The Planet intact.

"James Olsen is to be released immediately. Full severance package and contract canceled."

 _And there it is,_ Perry thought with a wince. _Not exactly my soul or first born, but close enough.  
_

"No deal," Perry immediately said. "The kid's been through a lot and I'm not about to have him get railroaded by some billionaire playboy."

"Well, if that's the case, then-"

"I'll have my desk cleared out and be out of the building within the next few hours," Perry said, cutting the man off. "If you get rid of Olsen, then I'm leaving...and don't be surprised if others follow me out."

Worthington leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together, touching his index fingers to his own lips, a thoughtful expression on his face. There was no haughty attitude or arrogance in his demeanor. After a few more seconds he finally nodded. "Betsy was right about you," he said.

"Huh?" Perry was not expecting that kind of reaction from the man. "I did effectively just resign, right? I do remember that part."

"No, Mr. White, you threatened to resign out of loyalty to a young man you consider to be like a son to you." Worthington then stood up out of his chair. "Which is why I deny your request, but I do expect Olsen to be released of his obligations by the end of the day." He then gave Perry a knowing grin. "After all, he's going to have bigger things to deal with."

Perry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're not firing him, are you? What are you going to do with him?"

The billionaire's expression softened as he spoke. "Mr. White...Perry...you and I both know Jimmy went through hell last year."

"Yes, but-" Perry stopped in mid-sentence when the realization hit him. "You know what happened to him over there, don't you? You were there."

Worthington smiled at Perry again. "We all have our demons, Perry. Did Jimmy ever tell you what happened to him or what he did over there?"

"No," Perry said. "He did mention a few things and I gathered that there was more to what he told me, but I didn't want to push him. I told him that I was willing to talk to him about it when he was ready, but I know that might never happen."

"I will tell you this much, Perry. Jimmy Olsen faced his demons and then some. It didn't break him, but it changed him. Right now, he's just going through the motions of being normal again, but he'll never be the same. Keeping him here is like keeping a bird of prey locked up in a cage. Granted, the Planet is a gilded cage, but it's still a cage." He then leaned forward slightly on Perry's desk. "Let him go, Perry...you prepared him and he's ready to make it on his own."

Worthington then turned around and started to leave. But just as he was about to open the door, he looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, and after you talk to Olsen, inform him that he is to attend the MaxCon party tonight. His ride will be picking him up in about," he paused to look at his watch, "an hour...at the Planet's helipad."

* * *

 _ **End Notes:**_ _No...Jimmy's not fired. Next chapter, he meets his new bosses and attends a party where a certain other billionaire (who likes to dress up as a bat and beat criminals to a bloody pulp every night with his bare hands) crashes the party. Jimmy also runs into some old friends and we learn an annoying nickname._

 _Also...does he have powers? Kind of...but no. He did get injured during the occupation and someone used their technology to try to heal him...which resulted in really messing up his brain a little (screwed up his fight or flight response). It could also be argued that he is suffering some form of PTSD._


	7. Changes II

Disclaimer: Don't own any X-Men stuff, Marvel does (though I would treat my mutants better than the shitty way Marvel is treating them right now just because of the whole feud with FOX over movie rights). Don't own any of the Justice League characters, those belong to DC and Warner Brothers (who actually treat their properties far more respectfully than Marvel does with theirs).

Author's Notes: Okay, we meet the twin owners of MaxCon (which stands for Maximoff Concepts). This version of Pietro and Wanda are...um...going to be different. Although, honestly, I still picture Evan Peters playing a version of this character. And to answer the question one final time: No, Jimmy's not fired...just...acquired, removed, and put someplace else. Also, a very brief glimpse at some of what Jimmy did during the Occupation of New York.

Side Note: While I didn't like X-Men Apocalypse, it did give my muse some ideas.

* * *

 _ **Daily Planet**_

 _ **Metropolis, Delaware**_

Jimmy Olsen sat in the chair of his office cubicle, staring at his half finished column on his computer as he thought about how his day was going. To say that his day had taken a bizarre turn would have been a fucking understatement. Yes, that was a crude assessment, but it was a very accurate one. After all, he started the day like he normally did:

He woke up at three in the morning.

He went for his morning run.

He showered, shaved, had breakfast, brushed his teeth.

He caught his usual transit bus to the Daily Planet building.

He started work on his upcoming column.

The day usually came with a lunch break, followed by him finishing up his column, and ending with him following up a lead on the next story he was looking into.

The first five steps were pretty much routine and he just went through the motions like he had for the last several months since he returned to his job at the Planet.

But today was a very different day. It was the day that shit started happening and the current facade of a life he had carefully crafted for himself in the last ten months started to crumble as it collided with the person he had become a year ago during The Occupation.

The day started out harmless enough...well, as harmless as learning that your place of employment just got bought out and the new owners were descending upon their newly conquered territory like the mongol raider hordes of history to burn and pillage their newly acquired asset of whatever was considered valuable (that was straight from the new owner's mouth...until his assistant/lover sharply elbowed him and told him to behave). The new owner showed up and immediately went into Perry's office for a meeting that had everyone else in the bullpen wondering who was going to keep their job and who was going to be looking for work in the next few weeks.

Jimmy, for his part, just didn't care. If he got fired, he could just go elsewhere. Getting fired was normal, that happened to normal people. It wasn't something he was looking forward to, but losing his job and being forced to look for a new one was nothing after all the shit he went through a year ago.

While Perry and Warren Worthington the Third had their meeting in Perry's office, Jimmy had a bizarre conversation with Worthington's assistant that made him wonder why the billionaire and his crew were really there. The conversation with Ms. Braddock set off alarms in the back of his head, especially when she made a comment that hit way to close to home for him.

" _The devil is in the details, and only those who dare can see them."_

When he heard those words, Jimmy knew Braddock was talking about him...and that annoying nickname that one of the Sinister Six gave him.

 _If I ever run into Osborn again, I am going to beat the shit out of him. You do a couple things out of desperation that actually work and you get a stupid nickname. Thank God I didn't stick around with them, I really hate to think what I'd do for an encore if I went down that road._

For a moment, the world flickered out of existence for Jimmy as his mind flashed back to a year earlier where he and an injured Goblyn were leaning against the guard rail alongside the freeway as they watched the remains of a burning Thanagarian patrol craft explode.

" _ **Dude...you just took out those winged freaks with a UPS truck!"**_

" _ **Had no choice, didn't have anything to shoot them down with."**_

" _ **A UPS truck?"**_

" _ **Yep."**_

" _ **A fucking UPS truck!?"**_

" _ **Only thing available...think I should have had them sign for delivery?"**_

Jimmy couldn't help shaking his head and laughing softly at that memory. It was a funny moment, yes, but it was also one of his darkest. When the Thanagarians left Earth, he left New York and returned to Metropolis, hoping to leave the events of The Occupation behind.

Then he remembered something that Russian man escorting Ms. Braddock had said to him.

" _You can't go back, Olsen, but you can always come home."_ There was something about the man that seemed very familiar, but Jimmy couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Jimmy." Perry's voice cut through the young man's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "Could I see you in my office for a minute?"

"Sure thing, boss," Jimmy said as he stood up out of his chair and got out of his cubicle. He noticed the looks of concern on the faces of Lois and Clark when he glanced in their direction, but dismissed them immediately when he entered Perry's office. While Worthington and Braddock had left, Jimmy noted the three men who escorted them in were still standing outside the bullpen as if they were waiting for something. When Perry closed the door to his office, followed by closing the blinds to the inner office windows, Jimmy had a sinking feeling what this meeting was about.

"Have a seat, Jimmy," Perry said as he sat down behind his own desk with a tired look on his face.

 _Oh yeah,_ Jimmy thought to himself, _I think I know where this is going._

And yet, despite his suspicions, Jimmy felt oddly calm at this situation even though he was certain that it signaled that his job was in peril. He sat down in one of the leather chairs across from Perry and noticed that the older man was drumming his fingers on a nondescript envelope. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything until Jimmy finally decided to break the silence.

"Let's just cut right to it, boss," Jimmy said, wondering how he could sound so calm despite the fact that he was probably losing his job. "You're letting me go, aren't you?"

Perry continued to drum his fingers on the envelope for a couple more seconds before picking it up and examining it. He then looked at Jimmy and sighed. "I'm sorry, kid. But that was the deal Worthington gave me; I get to keep the Planet running as it is so long as I release you from any obligation the Planet. I didn't-"

Jimmy cut him off. "No, Perry, I get it. One guy versus a couple hundred people here plus our overseas bureaus...you don't need to give me the whole 'needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few' spiel; but can I ask the exact reason he gave you for cutting me?"

Instead of answering right away, Perry gave Jimmy the envelope.

Curious, Jimmy opened the envelope. As he suspected, it was a check, but it wasn't the kind of check that the Daily Planet gave to its employees and soon-to-be former employees. Instead of the Daily Planet logo on the check, it was the MaxCon corporate logo and the amount was…

 _What the hell?_

He blinked his eyes a couple times before reading the check, then looked back up at Perry. "Okay, I know THAT is not the standard severance check."

Perry gave Jimmy a sheepish look. "Um, yeah...you'll be getting that in the next week."

"Perry, the check is for three hundred grand. What the hell?"

"Worthington was very blunt that his partners expressed an interest in you."

"Partners, as in MaxCon?" Jimmy asked. "And what exactly do they want with me?"

"Worthington didn't say, only that they wanted to meet with you as soon as you were 'released' from your obligations to the Planet." Perry was about to say something else when the phone on his desk rang. "Hold on a second, Jimmy," he said as he picked up the phone. "This is White...uh, yeah, he's right here."

Jimmy arched a questioning eyebrow as a surprised expression crossed Perry's face.

"I was not expecting you this early…yeah, I'll send him up."

Perry hung up the phone and then looked at Jimmy. "Okay, apparently the MaxCon people want to talk to you now."

"Now?"

"Yes, Olsen...as in this very moment."

"Okay, directions to where I'm supposed to go would be nice."

"Topside," said Perry, gesturing to the roof.

"Perry, we're on the top floor, the only thing up there is the..."

Jimmy's voice trailed off as he saw a silver and black helicopter with the MaxCon logo outside Perry's window making a final approach towards the building before disappearing out of view.

"Perry, what's going on? That was a Bell429 executive chopper."

"And that would be your ride," said Perry as he got up from his desk and opened the door to his office. "Apparently, they decided to show up a half hour early."

Jimmy followed his boss out of the office and started towards the elevator, but stopped when he realized two things. One, the three bodyguards working for Worthington were gone and, two, his cubicle was gone. It wasn't just empty of all his stuff (which wasn't much), everything had been taken. His chair, his desk, his computer, his little filing cabinet, and his cubical walls...all gone and leaving an empty spot where it had been.

"Perry!" Lois Lane's voice had a dangerous tone as she growled out her boss' name and the look on her face matched it as she approached the two men, followed closely by Clark who looked like he was trying to bring an angry attack dog to heel and failing miserably. "What the hell is going on? Worthington's three gorillas grabbed Jimmy's stuff AND his cubicle the moment you closed the door to your office. Why are you firing him?"

"It's out of my hands, Lois, and he's not fired. He's being relocated," said Perry.

"Relocated," Lois spat out the word as if it were an epithet. "He's earned his spot here, Perry, he shouldn't be demoted." She then looked over her shoulder. "Smallville, back me up here."

Clark Kent reached up to adjust his glasses as he spoke. "Lois is right, Perry. Jimmy doesn't deserve this."

"Look guys, it's not what you think-" Jimmy started to say, but Lois cut him off.

"The hell it isn't," Lois snarled before she paused to take a breath and calm down. "No offense, Jimmy, but I know a sacrifice when I see one." She then glared at Perry. "And you...I thought better of you, Perry. I never would have thought that you would turn on one of your own like-"

"Um, hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Testing...testing...one...two...three."

Everyone stopped what they were doing as they heard the voice from the internal PA system.

"Are you sure we hacked the right number, Sis?" the voice asked.

"Yes, Bro...and I think they can hear you," replied a female voice.

"Oh...shit...and they probably just heard me swear over their PA system, didn't they? Oh well, doesn't matter." There was a pause and then, more loudly, "JAMES OLSEN! YOUR TIME HAS COME!"

"Dammit, Pietro! Don't blow out their eardrums. Here, give me the damn phone. James Olsen, your transport has arrived. Please proceed to the helipad so we can get you out of here. We've got a busy schedule tonight, and you got a lot to do."

There was the sound of a connection being terminated and everyone except Perry turned to look at Jimmy with confused expressions on their faces.

"Okay," Lois finally said, breaking the collective silence. "That was weird. And exactly who the hell was that?"

"My guess would be the people on the MaxCon executive chopper that's waiting for me on the helipad," said Jimmy. He was about to walk over to his cubicle to grab his jacket when he remembered that it, along with his cubicle was now gone. He let out a resigned sigh and shook his head. "Fine, I might as well see what they have to say. It's not like I got a choice here."

* * *

Five minutes later, Jimmy stepped onto the helipad where the MaxCon chopper was waiting. The door to the passenger compartment opened and young man with silver-blond hair poked his head out. "C'mon, Olsen!" he shouted. "We're running late!"

"Oh yeah," Jimmy muttered under his breath as he started to approach the helicopter. "This isn't surreal at all." He entered the helicopter, pulling the door firmly shut behind him and then looked around the compartment to see two people sitting on one side. The attractive red-haired woman gestured for Jimmy to take a seat across from them.

As soon as Jimmy took a seat, the man with the silver hair pushed a button on the arm-rest of his seat. "Okay, Neal, we're secure, take us out."

"On our way, Mr. Maximoff," the pilot's voice said.

At the mention of Maximoff, Jimmy's eyes widened slightly in surprise. _This is Peter Maximoff? The CEO and owner of MaxCon? Jeez, how old is this guy? He can't be much older than me._

"Hi there, I'm Peter Maximoff," the man said he leaned forward and extended his hand which Jimmy cautiously shook.

"James Olsen," Jimmy said in greeting. "No offense, but I was expecting the head of MaxCon to be...um..."

"Maybe twenty years older and acting like an immature twenty something?" asked the woman as she smiled at Jimmy. "Well, Mr. Olsen, we're both under thirty, but I can assure you that my dear brother is a truly immature twenty-something." She then shook Jimmy's hand. "I'm Wanda Maximoff, the other owner of MaxCon and the voice of reason since my brother is a little scatter-brained most of the time."

"That is not true!" Peter Maximoff cried out before turning to reface Jimmy. "Don't listen to her Johnny, she doesn't know what she's talking about."

"It's Jimmy, dear brother," Wanda corrected her brother.

"Oh yeah, Jimmy Olsen! Welcome to MaxCon!"

"He hasn't taken the job yet, Pietro."

"He hasn't?" Peter asked, glancing back at his sister. "Why not? I mean, we went to a lot of trouble to get him." He then returned his attention to Jimmy. "You are taking the job, right?"

For the first time in several months, Jimmy actually found himself at loss as to what to do. "Um, I'm not sure what job you're talking about," he said. "I'm still trying to get over the fact that I lost my current job."

"But you do have at least three hundred thousand reasons not to complain though, right?" Peter chuckled. "Wish I could have seen your face when you got that check. Trust me Jimmy, it's time for you to move on to bigger and better things. Have you heard of the Daily Bugle?"

Jimmy tried not to roll his eyes at the mention of the Planet's competition based out of New York. "Oh yeah...I know the Bugle. Was run by that idiot Jameson who spent more time bitching about Spiderman and not caring about actual journalism."

"Yeah, well...that's kind of changed since we bought the paper and kicked the old fart out on his ear. You've heard of Joseph Robertson?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's running the Bugle now and we proposed a new on-line media division called 'Bugle Front Line'. Think of it as on online-based investigative division, kind of like what Spotlight was for the Boston Globe, but with more funding and technology."

"Okay, sounds good," Jimmy said, his curiosity definitely piqued. "And why me? Why not go for the big guns with more experience like Lane and Kent?"

At the mention of Kent's name, Jimmy saw a flicker of another emotion in Maximoff's face before it faded back into the amused expression it was before. "Oh yeah, Lane and Kent...Lane's kind of a bitch and Kent is well...how can I put this...too much of an overgrown boyscout. Not to mention the fact that those two are kind of an item and Kent has other baggage that I don't want to deal with."

"Baggage? What kind of baggage could a farm-boy from Kansas have?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Jimmy...it is okay if I call you Jimmy, right?" Maximoff then looked over at his sister. "Sis, if you would be so kind?"

Wanda nodded and raised both of her hands which started to glow as a sparking red ball of energy started to form between them. She spread her hands apart a few inches and the ball seemed to explode outward while dissipating at the same time. "And we're done, bro," she said.

"And what exactly was that?" Jimmy asked.

Peter smirked at Jimmy. "Funny you should ask that. Most people in your predicament would freak out talking to a couple mutants while being taken to some unknown destination. But not you...you didn't even flinch."

"I'm not like most people," said Jimmy.

"No," Wanda's purred appreciatively, "you aren't."

"Down girl," Peter said to his sister before looking back to Jimmy. "Wanda just threw up a barrier that will prevent certain eyes and ears from looking in on us, that's all. Think of it as a security precaution." He then gave Jimmy a knowing smile. "You never know who might be watching or listening, right?"

* * *

Standing on the Planet helipad, Clark Kent frowned as he watched the departing helicopter vanish in a reddish haze of energy and his super-hearing suddenly cut out. A second later, his cellphone went off and he answered it. He already knew who was calling. "Yeah, Bruce?"

"The Watchtower just lost track of the MaxCon helicopter, what do you see?"

"Nothing. There was a red haze of energy that briefly surrounded the chopper and then it faded out of view. My hearing also cut out at the same time."

"Sounds like MaxCon has access to some very advanced technology." There was a pause at the other end of the line. "So Clark, how do you feel about crashing a party?"


	8. Welcome to MaxCon

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Marvel and DC do.

Author's Notes: Okay...cranking out this chapter with little to no sleep and working too much overtime. Yes, I ripped off a few small things from Arrow (and no, do not expect to see Jimmy Olsen running around executing people saying "YOU FAILED THIS CITY!" LOL!). Now Before any of you ask, no I'm not bashing all the DC heroes. It's just a lot of people in New York feel the League kind of let them down a little during the Occupation (though, to be fair, the League did ultimately beat the Thanagarians off). And no, Jimmy is NOT pissed off at Superman and the League over the Occupation...he's more pissed/worried about something else. Also, a couple more "X-Men" characters make an appearance and I hope you people aren't too thrown off by this version of Pietro and Wanda.

Oh, and as for how the Daily Bugle got "rebuilt" and took up an entire city block in a year, here's your answer: A lot of powerful mutants in the construction crew (and maybe Pietro and Wanda's father might have helped).

* * *

 _ **MaxCon Media Building**_

 _ **(Formerly the Daily Bugle)**_

 _ **Manhattan, New York**_

Clark Kent adjusted his glasses as he watched Bruce Wayne pull up in a black Lamborghini and thought he was having a flashback to when he first met Bruce Wayne. However, unlike that time, most of the people gathered here outside the MaxCon Media Building (formerly the Daily Bugle and recently rebuilt and expanded to take an entire city block) were not in awe of the well known billionaire/playboy/businessman showing up. In fact, Clark could hear disgust and derision in the voices of half the reporters and paparazzi gathered outside the building. As Bruce got out of the Lamborghini for one of the attendants to take his car, he gave Clark a slight nod before walking into a group of reporters who hammered him with various questions.

Clark still couldn't help being impressed at how easily Bruce could slip into the role of pompous and arrogant playboy billionaire and convince people that was who he was.

 _And I wonder how many of those people would freak out if they learned that pompous and snobby wealthy playboy is the same guy who dresses up as a bat and beats bad guys to a bloody pulp with his bare hands at night._

He smiled at that thought, then focused on the stretch limousine that rolled up after Bruce with the MaxCon corporate logo on the sides. Security personnel stepped forward to keep the crowds back as throngs of people gathered behind the barriers to get a look of what the media had dubbed as one of the "New Royalty of New York".

 _Well, at least I get to meet the people who snatched Jimmy from us._

Clark wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation when Worthington Enterprises, along with MaxCon, bought controlling interest in the Daily Planet. Clark was expecting sweeping changes, but was surprised when Perry told him that things were pretty much going to remain the same, except for one condition: Jimmy Olsen had to be released from any contractual obligations to the Daily Planet.

The situation got even more curious when Jimmy was effectively removed from the Daily Planet, but not in the usual way most former employees were removed. Instead of a couple boxes filled with his personal belongings and Jimmy being escorted out by security personnel, Jimmy's entire office cubicle was seized and he was picked up by a MaxCon executive helicopter that ferried him away to parts unknown. But the shocker for Clark was how the helicopter "vanished" shortly after takeoff from the Planet in a red haze of energy that made it ripple out of sight.

 _The fact that they have technology like that tells me there is something else going on here and Bruce is right that it could be a major threat under our collective noses._

After Jimmy's departure from the Planet, Clark had done some digging about Worthington Enterprises and MaxCon. After looking into the deal involving the purchase of the Daily Planet, Clark concluded that the buyout seemed to center on one thing: removing Jimmy Olsen.

 _But why would they go after Jimmy like that? Sure, he's made some enemies as a photographer and a reporter, but someone forked out a lot of money just to get him away from us...why is that?_

Then he remembered part of the conversation he was able to overhear before something cut off his super-hearing.

 _ **"Oh yeah...I know the Bugle. Was run by that idiot Jameson who spent more time bitching about Spiderman and not caring about actual journalism."**_

 _ **"Yeah, well...that's kind of changed since we bought the paper and kicked the old fart out on his ear. You've heard of Joseph Robertson?"**_

 _ **"Yeah, what about him?"**_

 _ **"He's running the Bugle now and we proposed a new on-line media division called 'Bugle Front Line'. Think of it as on online-based investigative division, kind of like what Spotlight was for the Boston Globe, but with more funding and technology."**_

 _ **"Okay, sounds good. And why me? Why not go for the big guns with more experience like Lane and Kent?"**_

 _ **"Oh yeah, Lane and Kent...Lane's kind of a bitch and Kent is well...how can I put this...too much of an overgrown boyscout. Not to mention the fact that those two are kind of an item and Kent has other baggage that I don't want to deal with."**_

 _ **"Baggage? What kind of baggage could a farm-boy from Kansas have?"**_

 _ **"Oh, you'd be surprised, Jimmy...it is okay if I call you Jimmy, right? Sis, if you would be so kind?"**_

With his X-Ray vision, Clark watched as the young woman identified as Wanda Maximoff did something with her hands that glowed with a strange reddish energy. Then, a couple seconds later, the helicopter vanished and his super-hearing cut out. Then Bruce had called, informing him that the Watchtower lost track of the helicopter and decided that they were both going to crash the MaxCon party that was being publicly thrown in New York. But it wasn't until Bruce hung up that the realization hit Clark like a ton of bricks.

The Maximoffs knew about him.

 _Could they possibly have ties to Archangel? If they do, then it's a given that they know that Bruce is Batman. For all we know, we could be walking into a trap._

Clark put that thought on the back burner as he watched the limo driver get out and open the door to the passenger compartment.

 _Well, as Bruce would say, time to meet the enemy in their own den._

* * *

Jimmy tried not to curse as he continued to battle with the creature that attempted to strangle him every second he fought with it. "C'mon," he choked, "is this really necessary?"

"Oh for crying out loud," said Wanda Maximoff as she scooted over in her seat to reach out and help Jimmy with his neck tie. "Didn't you ever learn to properly learn to tie a tie?"

"No," Jimmy quipped, "kind of wasn't for the whole suit and tie thing growing up, and I'm still not. Besides, why would I want to wear something that could be used to kill me?"

"Hey, look at the bright side," said Peter as he watched his sister help Jimmy with his tie. "At least you're going to be killed by a two hundred dollar neck tie and you're wearing a four thousand dollar suit. So, hey...at least you're going out in style, right?"

"Not helping, Pietro!" Wanda snapped as she finally managed to undo Jimmy's tie. "Her, let's unbutton the top button here so-" Her voice trailed off when she saw the tip of the scar that started just below the base of Jimmy's throat and started to continue downward. It took her a second to realize that she was staring before she blushed and looked up at Jimmy. "Sorry," she said. "I know you went through some stuff, but I didn't mean to-"

Before Jimmy could reply, Wanda's brother cut her off.

"Don't mind her, Jimmy. Like all girls, she digs scars, especially when she watches the body attached to them work out."

"Shut up, Pietro!"

"Wait, hold up," said Jimmy. "You've been watching me?"

"Well, yeah," Peter replied. "After all, when looking at prospective employees, we tend to watch them for a bit, check out their background. Why Wanda enjoyed watching you use the salmon ladder at the gym...I have no idea."

"Pietro, I am going to end you!"

Jimmy wasn't sure if he should be concerned, pissed, or amused at the situation. Sure, it bothered him that he was being watched and investigated, but he also found it amusing that the very attractive red-headed young woman was flushed red with embarrassment and looked like she was about to beat the hell out of her brother and...were her hands beginning to glow?

Peter seemed to notice the glowing hands and immediately moved towards the door of limo as it opened. "Oh, hey, we're here!" he announced as he exited the door.

* * *

Clark watched as Peter Maximoff exited the limo, dressed in a white Italian made suit, hands outstretched as he held his arms up in the air in greeting, briefly posing for the cameras before (a little too quickly) stepping aside and offering a hand to help his sister, who dressed in an elegant red evening gown, out of the car. He noticed that Maximoff almost instantly let go of his sister's hand and seemed to wince as if he had been shocked by something.

 _And here they are, but who else is in...Jimmy?_

Sure enough, and to Clark's surprise, Jimmy Olsen, dressed in a black three piece suit, stepped out of the car. He threw something over his shoulder and back into the car that Clark identified as a neck tie. He also noticed that Jimmy was trying to slink off as the Maximoffs posed for the cameras and fielded questions but was stopped when Peter Maximoff grabbed Jimmy by the arm and pulled him in.

"And this guy," Peter said to the photographers and reporters, "is James Olsen. You're going to be seeing a lot of him in regards to our new project. C'mon, Jimmy, wave at the cameras...and get used it."

Clark saw Jimmy manage to force a smile and wave at the crowd.

"Mr. Olsen," one reported called out. "Why did the Daily Planet fire you?"

"Excuse me?" Jimmy asked, caught off guard by the question.

"Okay, first off," Peter cut in, "who the hell are you?"

"Mark Brayden, GBS News."

"Okay, first off, Mark...I do recall GBS being blacklisted from the party, which is why security is going to keep you from getting into the building. But to answer the question, Jimmy wasn't fired, we bought him."

"Great," Jimmy muttered, "now I'm a piece of meat."

Unfortunately, he said it loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear him which caused a ripple of laughter.

"Hey, I'm not going to complain," someone in the crowd of paparazzi said, causing more laughter.

Even Clark had to stifle a chuckle at this moment before he cleared his throat. "Mr. Maximoff, if I may?"

Peter Maximoff looked in Clark's direction and grinned. "Well, hey, if it isn't Clark Kent, everyone! That means you must be digging something up on me, because you don't strike me as the kind of person who would crash a party like this." He walked towards Clark, and extended his hand which Clark shook. "Go ahead, Mr. Kent, I have nothing to hide. Ask away."

"Why the whole dramatic approach to hiring Mr. Olsen from the Planet?"

"Who's asking the question?" Maximoff countered. "The reporter or the friend?"

"A bit of both."

Maximoff said nothing for a moment as he studied Clark's expression. Then he glanced back over at his sister who nodded as if confirming something before turning back to face Clark. "An honest statement by a mostly honest man," he finally said. "To answer your question, Mr. Kent, I tend to be a little theatrical and I just thought it would be fun." Then he lowered his voice slightly as he leaned forward to whisper, "But I don't need to preach to you and your brooding billionaire playboy friend about theatrics, do I, Clark?" He stepped back and his voice returned to normal as he gave Clark a slight wink. "I'll see you inside, Mr. Kent." Then he turned back to Jimmy and Wanda. "Okay, you two, time to go inside. I hope to see everyone else inside as well."

He stopped and then pointed at the GBS reporter. "Except that guy."

Then Maximoff, his sister, and Jimmy entered the building while a couple security men showed up out of nowhere and dragged the protesting GBS reporter away.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy found himself in the middle atrium of the MaxCon Media building, standing at the top of the steps that led to the lower floor and was definitely being overwhelmed by the surrealism of it all. Off to the side was a bar that was manned by multiple staff. The middle of the atrium had been converted to a dance floor while lighting flashed through out the building. He looked up and could see a black man sitting behind a table on an elevated platform manning a couple turn-tables and a computer terminal, manipulating the beats of the music. Occasionally the man would reach out with both hands and a surge of electricity would erupt from them and flicker among some metallic poles placed through out the atrium while pulsing to the music.

 _Well, Max is here, which means the other members of the six are probably lurking around here somewhere. Yep, there's Todd popping open bottles of champagne and, of course, Harry's working one of the bars.  
_

Part of him was wishing he had stuck with Wanda and Peter, but they immediately excused themselves after entering the building, citing they had an important business meeting.

"Go out there and have some fun," Peter Maximoff had told him. "Get to know some of these people, since you are going to be working with them after all."

"And if you don't have fun, I may have to force you," Wanda playfully threatened him, lightly punching him in the shoulder.

"Careful with her," Peter stage whispered. "I hear she uses whips, chains, and leather."

"Shut up, Pietro!"

Jimmy laughed at that. "Okay...just one thing. How much of this act you put on is actually genuine?"

Peter shrugged and Jimmy noticed that the "eccentric billionaire whack job" and his "wisecracking sister" seemed to vanish a little as their facial expressions also became more serious. "Most of it is real, Jimmy," he said. "People tend to believe what they see. I'm the crazy young billionaire businessman with attention deficit disorder and Wanda is the uptight, mostly serious-minded one. We play off each other and people buy it."

"Except for a few," Wanda added. "You being one who sees right through it. Even though you miss some of the other things."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Jimmy, wondering what the two siblings were hinting at.

"Not our secrets to tell, Jimmy," Peter said as he and Wanda started towards an elevator. "But when you figure it out, and you will, you'll never look at the world the same way again."

So here Jimmy was, almost twenty minutes later, thinking about how crazy the whole day had been and wondering what was going on as he looked down at the atrium floor, still pondering if he should go down there or just continue to lurk around in the shadows. He saw a familiar winged creature and a skinny young man passing out drinks before the winged creature sliced off the top of a champagne bottle with a clawed finger and poured it on a small mini mountain of glasses.

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy didn't bother turn to turn around, he knew that voice anywhere. "What's up, Clark?"

"That's what I was going to ask you," replied the older man as he stood next to Jimmy. "We were worried about you, especially the way you were..um...transferred."

"Ha, transferred," Jimmy snorted. "That's one way of putting it." Then he shook his head and gave Clark a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Clark, just a little overwhelmed."

"Is that why you're not down there with the others celebrating?"

Jimmy's smile faded slightly. "Nothing to celebrate, Clark," he said, a haunted look in his eyes. "A year ago, this place was almost rubble. I remember not being able to breathe because the airborne dust and dirt was clogging the nostrils and lungs." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Clark...it's kind of hard to take in."

Clark studied the younger man for a moment, noting that, yes, this really was a different Jimmy Olsen, the REAL Jimmy Olsen, not the guy who seemed to be going through the motions at the Daily Planet. "Jimmy, I'm only going to ask you once; if you don't want to talk about it, I won't bring it up again. What really happened to you over here?"

Jimmy thought about it for a few seconds. Clark was a friend, sometimes a little clueless on some things, but he was always there to give support and some advice.

 _The same could be said about Lois, even though she could be pushy, bossy, and loud about it._

After a couple more seconds, Jimmy sighed and came to a decision. "Look, Clark, it's not that I don't want to talk about it, it's just a little more-"

"Whoa, Whoa, WHOA! CUT THE MUSIC!"

Both men turned to look in the direction of the shouting and Jimmy inwardly groaned as Todd Tolenski started to walk up the steps, pointing in their direction. "Ladies and gentlemen," Tolenski announced, gesturing at Jimmy. "The man of the hour!"

The crowd on the dance floor erupted in cheers and wild applause, some of the people raising their drinks in the air in a salute.

He then looked up at the upper level where the DJ was located. "Yo, Max! Give us some proper music, will ya? C'mon down, Jimmy!"

Clark gave Jimmy a questioning look, but the younger man only shrugged as he started to walk down the steps while "We Are The Champions" by Queen began to play. He watched as the other man guided Jimmy to stand up on a table while the winged creature that Clark recognized as Harry "Goblyn" Osborne glided over with a shot glass in hand.

"Here you go, Jimmy, drink up," Goblyn said as he handed Jimmy the shot glass.

Jimmy paused for a moment as he held the glass and glanced in Clark's direction. Then he gave Clark a quick wink before he slammed back the shot and exclaimed, "It's great to be back!"

The crowd roared their approval and the regular music resumed as Jimmy stepped down from the table and made his way back to Clark who started to come down the steps. Clark managed to catch some of the comments made by people as Jimmy walked by them, some patting him on the back as he passed.

"Welcome back, Olsen."

"Thank you...for everything."

"Try not to burn anything down tonight, okay?"

"UPS called, they want their truck back!"

All these comments caught Clark off guard, and while he saw Jimmy nod in response, he could see the haunted look in the younger man's eyes.

 _Something did happen here...and he was involved. Jimmy, what were you involved in?_

Clark heard a gasp and a female voice start talking excitedly in Russian before tracking a young blond haired woman in her late teens who literally slammed into Jimmy and hugged him. Jimmy seemed taken aback by the moment until the girl spoke in heavily accented English with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she said.

"Illyana, ease off, you're going to crush him." Now that was a voice Clark remembered from a few hours earlier. He saw the large Russian man step forward and gently pull the young woman away. However instead of a three piece suit, the man wore a sleeveless shirt, black pants, and boots.

The young woman gave Jimmy one final hug before stepping away and back into the crowd.

"My little sister, Illyana," the Russian said to Jimmy. "She was on prison transport you attacked."

 _Prison transport?_

Now Clark was shocked.

 _Jimmy, what were you doing?_

Jimmy looked at the Russian for a moment, there was something that was very familiar about this man, but he couldn't put a finger on it. "Okay, from the Planet, you talked like you knew me and you do sound familiar."

The Russian smiled and extended his hand. "Piotr Rasputin." As he shook Jimmy's hand, his body started to turn metallic.

Jimmy's eyes widened a little in recognition. "Colossus...I should have known."

 _Colossus? Who is this meta-human? How does Jimmy know him?_

Clark decided that he was definitely going to have a long talk with Jimmy. He was just thankful Lois wasn't there because she would probably start to scream bloody murder and demand answers.

 _Though I wouldn't blame her,_ Clark thought as Jimmy, now accompanied by the Russian called Colossus, approached him.

"Hey, Clark," Jimmy said cheerfully, though it did seem like it was forced. "I would like you to meet someone I hung out with during the occupation. Colossus, this is Clark Kent."

The Russian man nodded as he reverted back to his human form and shook Clark's hand. "Ah, Mr. Kent, I like reading your articles. I liked series you did on Russian crime cartel in Gotham City...very accurate and very impressive."

"Thank you," said Clark, still trying to reconcile this friendly meta-human with the stone cold expressionless bodyguard he saw working for Worthington. "I take it that you helped Jimmy during the Occupation?"

Colossus looked at Clark for a moment, then glanced at Jimmy who merely shrugged, before suddenly laughing. "Helped? You have sense of humor, Clark Kent, I like it. The Devil doesn't need help, Mr. Kent...not when he is perfectly capable of doing things on his own. Olsen, you should-" The large man stopped in mid-sentence when he caught the slight shake of Jimmy's head. "You never told him?"

"No, Colossus, I didn't."

"Did you tell anyone?" Jimmy shook his head again and Colossus laughed even louder. "Oh, this is hilarious!"

"What?" Clark asked, noting the concern on Jimmy's face while Colossus seemed like he finally got the punchline of a joke.

After taking a second to calm down, Colossus shook his head in bewilderment. "He never told you...or anyone else...anything?" Then he sighed in defeat as he looked at Jimmy. "It would seem that I owe Archangel fifty dollars for losing bet."

"If I may inquire, what are you talking about?"

Colossus stared at Clark for a moment, his smile fading a little as he shook his head. "It is not my story to tell, Mr. Kent. And it is apparent that the one to tell it is not ready." He then looked back at Jimmy. "And you, my friend...you should tell him when you're ready. He is a good man." He then turned and walked back into the crowd, leaving Jimmy alone with Clark.

For a couple seconds, neither man said anything before Jimmy decided to break the silence. "I'm not going to lie to you Clark," he said. "Some ugly shit happened. I wanted to talk to you and Lois, but I was afraid you would just look at me as a 'potential story' to write about and not as a friend."

"Jimmy, c'mon, that's not fair."

"Yeah, you're right, Clark. I apologize. I know you wouldn't do anything like that, but SHE would."

"Okay, you may have a point there," Clark admitted, "but she does consider you a friend."

"I know, but you also know how her instincts are when she gets a story, she'll want to push farther and dig deeper, and I'm not sure I could deal with that right now."

"Okay, if not us, why not Superman?" Clark asked. "I've talked to him a few times and he's told me that you've been quiet and refuse to talk about it with him."

"Because Superman is the LAST person I want to talk to about it," Jimmy said. "And before you go about defending him about not doing anything about New York, I'm going to stop you right there and tell you that's not the reason I've been trying to stay away from him. He didn't fail me, I failed him."

Clark studied Jimmy with his x-ray vision as the young man spoke and he noticed that Jimmy's voice became more calm and cold, even as his heart rate accelerated. Jimmy's heart-rate showed all the signs of a person experiencing a panic attack and there was a surge of adrenaline going through the kid's system. But, outwardly, he stood there calmly and seemed to become more detached on the outside.

"Jimmy, what do you mean by that?"

Jimmy said nothing for a couple seconds. When he finally spoke, it wasn't an answer Clark was expecting and it was one that cut him right to the core.

"Tell me, Clark. What would Superman think if he found out that his 'pal' Jimmy Olsen killed a lot of people during The Occupation?"


	9. Welcome to MaxCon II

Disclaimer: Marvel characters, owned by and being abused/pissed on/used as political proxy by the assholes at Marvel Comics who seem to think political pandering is better than telling entertaining stories and treating their fans like shit is okay. DC characters, owned by Warner Brothers and DC comics (who, unlike Marvel, can tell decent stories and learned from some of the mistakes they made with New 52).

Author's Notes: Small update. Wasn't really motivated to write anything lately until I happened to stumble across the latest shit Nick Spencer and his glee club of the damned have been spewing out and trying to pass off as storytelling. Add in the whole "turning Deadpool and Punisher into Captain America's bitches" thing and Deadpool assassinating Coulson...well, I was pissed enough to write some more.

* * *

"Excuse me?" Clark wasn't quite sure he heard Jimmy correctly. "What do you mean you killed a lot of people?"

Jimmy hesitated for a moment, then his shoulders slumped slightly. "Some would argue that they were all aliens, Clark, but I didn't have much of a choice."

Clark looked at the younger man for a moment, comparing him to the kid he met nearly a decade ago and realized, after one look at Jimmy's eyes, that Jimmy Olsen was long gone. Instead, he saw the eyes and face of a man who had seen some terrible things, and perhaps had to make a tough call more than once.

 _Not unlike the face you see of the man every morning in the mirror when you shave,_ Clark thought to himself. _Hell, I doubt Bruce could intimidate this man. Why hadn't I noticed the changes before?_

The realization felt like a kick in the gut when Clark answered his own question.

 _Is it because of my duality as Superman and Clark Kent? Is it because I spend so much time as one that I treat the other like a mere facade and take the "normal setting" for granted?_

Jimmy smirked at the older man. "What's the matter, Clark? Things start adding up?" He then shook his head. "I'm sorry...I don't mean to sound like an ass about it. And Colossus is right, I should at least try talking to you."

"You weren't hiding with the resistance, were you?" Clark asked, his eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"Hiding?" Both men turned to see Elizabeth Braddock standing there in a purple evening gown with a wine glass in hand. "James Olsen didn't hide, he helped run the resistance."

"I think that would be exaggerating, Ms. Braddock," Jimmy said. "I only pitched in and helped when needed. The cell I was in was mostly support, nothing more."

"Is that what you call it?" Braddock asked, a knowing smile on her face. "As you know, certain members of my cell would disagree with you."

"All I did was start a few fires, vandalized a few structures, and blow up a few vehicles. Any poor schmuck could do that."

"That's like saying Batman is the least dangerous member of the Justice League," Braddock countered. "And we all know that's not true, don't we?" Clark noted that the woman was looking right at him when she said those last two words. Then her expression softened a little when he looked back to Jimmy. "You gave them hope, Olsen...even if you feel differently."

"It stuck me with a lame nickname," said Jimmy as he rolled his eyes. "I'm really going to strangle Osborne and Tolenski. Jimmy 'Daredevil' Olsen." He sighed and shook his head. "You slam a vehicle into a prison transport and you're branded for life."

"It didn't stop you from painting the letter 'D' or the word 'DARE' whenever your crew struck."

"That was Osborne's idea, not mine."

"But it wasn't Osborne who hit the detention center in the Bronx and liberated the prisoners. It wasn't Osborne who fought the garrison commander while calling for the approaching Atlantean forces to fire on his position."

Clark's mind started racing as he remembered some of the things Aquaman had told him.

" _ **There was a surface dweller in the resistance, the Thanagarians referred to him as 'The Devil'. He talked to our forces briefly, telling them to track his signal and open fire once they had a lock."**_

" _ **So he spotted for you."**_

" _ **No, Superman, he was fighting the Thanagarian commander on top of their command cruiser that was hovering above the Hudson. My troopers confirmed seeing someone wearing damaged armor with a demonic look fighting the commander when they opened fire. They assumed his body went into the Hudson, along with the craft. We recovered the body of the Thanagarian commander and pieces of the unknown armor, but we didn't find the other body."**_

 _No,_ Clark thought, _that can't be possible. Jimmy's not that kind of person. He may work out a lot, but he doesn't have the training or the physical abilities to do what Ms. Braddock is implying._

Then he remembered the comment made by the man called Colossus several minutes earlier.

" _ **The Devil doesn't need help, Mr. Kent...not when he is perfectly capable of doing things on his own?"**_

 _Jimmy? What the hell happened to you?_

"But it was your actions that inspired others, Mr. Olsen," Braddock continued. "The phrases 'Dare to defy' and 'Dare to resist' were everywhere. Daredevil wasn't one man by then, it was a movement. As for being called 'The Devil'...the Thanagarians were the ones who branded you with it."

Now Clark had heard of the "Daredevil" resistance group, it was a briefly covered by Lois shortly after the Thanagarians had left Earth. Though she managed to write a full article on it, she didn't have much solid evidence to go on other than the fact that it was linked to the mysterious winged metahuman known as Archangel. Even Lois admitted in her article that it was more like half-truth and half-speculation.

"Hold on," he finally said, "you're saying Jimmy was the man they called 'The Devil'? But that's-"

"That's what, Mr. Kent?" Braddock asked. "Impossible? Because he was just one of the 'mere mortals'?" She shook her head and laughed. "The Occupation changed a lot of people here in New York, Mr. Kent. It showed people who they really were and what 'mere mortals' were truly capable of while their so called gods up high were too busy to help them."

Clark's eyes narrowed in suspicion. This was the second time in the last couple minutes that Braddock hinted she knew more than she was telling. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her voice in his head.

 _ **And you, Mr. Kent, actually feel guilty about that even though there really wasn't anything you could do about it. Relax...I'm not going to blow your secret identity to Jimmy here.**_

"What happened?" Clark asked Jimmy again, although his question was also meant for Braddock.

"It's kind of a funny thing, Clark," Jimmy said with a bitter laugh. "It's like something you see in a movie or read in book...some normal guy has one really bad day and it changes him forever. You dismiss shit like that as 'mere fantasy' or say 'That doesn't happen in the real world'."

He shook his head, briefly glancing down at the people dancing and celebrating in the atrium, before turning back to face the older man. "Then your world gets turned upside down and you've faced something you haven't before. Yeah, I've lived through a couple alien invasions, and I knew when I had to take cover and ride it out while waiting for Supes and the League to settle things...but it was different this time. This time, I was right in the middle of it.

"I didn't have time to hide, Clark. The Thanagarians came down, practically declaring martial law and rounding up citizens, particularly those they determined to be metahumans." Jimmy paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at one of his hand for a moment. "Some of these people fought back...there was this girl, she couldn't have been much older than me. Saved my life, but she ended up bleeding out in my arms. After that...I was pretty much involved."

For several seconds, nothing was said as Clark mentally processed what Jimmy told him.

"Sorry," Jimmy finally said. "It's not something I feel like talking about Clark, not here, not now. All I can tell you is that the last year since the occupation has had me living a lie. I mean, I go through two months of hell, then it's like the rest of the world suddenly goes back to normal except for me and I can't just slip back into the routine without feeling that I'm just dead inside while going through the motions of pretending nothing has changed."

Clark remained silent for a few more seconds, once again studying his young friend and wondering how he could have missed the clues. That was he noticed Jimmy absentmindedly rubbing his chest. Once again, he briefly used his X-Ray vision and saw the jagged scar that started right below Jimmy's throat and continued down his chest and abdomen. He barely managed to keep from reacting in shock, though he was certain that Braddock knew what he was thinking.

 _Jimmy, what the hell did they do to you?_

* * *

 **MaxCon Executive Offices**

 **Upper Level, MaxCon Building**

After waiting for half an hour in the outer office, Bruce Wayne was now certain that Worthington and MaxCon were more than what they appeared to be. Just from the layout alone and spotting the numerous "hidden" security measures and two "false" wall panels, he couldn't help feeling a sense of familiarity. It almost felt like he was in one of his own buildings except for the MaxCon logo on the walls. The logo seemed to be emblazoned everywhere as if it were screaming "look at us, we are big, bold, and can't be ignored". It was almost as if MaxCon was going out of their way to appear larger than life and in everyone's faces.

 _The Maximoff twins and Worthington come off as being arrogant and cocky, but this building alone tells me that we only see what they want us to see. An effective tactic...I should know since I use it myself._

The door to the inner office opened to reveal Wanda Maximoff standing there. "Mr. Wayne, thank you for coming." She stepped aside to let Bruce enter.

The moment he entered the office, Bruce stopped in his tracks as he saw the others inside the office. One of them an older man that he recognized as Professor Erik Lensherr from Gotham University, he was seated in a chair flanked by Peter Maximoff and Wanda who moved to stand next to her brother after she closed the door.

Another room sat across from Lensherr, a man with gray hair and in his mid-fifties. It took him a moment, but Bruce recognized the man as Adrian Toomes, a former aerospace engineer and criminal known as The Vulture. However, Bruce was also aware that Toomes had been retired since the end of the occupation and had taken a job with Farris Aerospace as an engineering consultant.

But what got Bruce's attention was the blond haired man standing behind the desk, wearing an Italian made suit that was similar in style to Bruce's except for the fact that a pair of metallic wings extended from his back and through holes slit in his clothing.

"Hello, Bruce," Warren Worthington the Third said in greeting. "I think it's time we all had a chat."


End file.
